The Prince and the Potters: Year Two
by Luke 923 HA
Summary: Second year has started with me getting in a fist fight with an adult, a professor that needs kicked in the face, and a giant monster attacking anything that moves. There's anger inside me I can't control, I'm hearing voices, and the students are all blaming the monster on Harry and Rachel! This year sucks, Dad, wherever you are... if you even want to listen. - Andrew Prince
1. I Feel Defeated

Chamber of Secrets

AN: Here's Year two guys. Hope you're enjoying the journey, and if you're just now joining it, I recommend you start with reading year one. You don't have to it's just a recommendation.

Chapter One: I Feel Defeated

"If you two don't do something about those ruddy owls and that dumb dog, I will personally make sure they are taken care of permanently," says Vernon nastily from across the dinner table.

"Sure you are," says Rachel dryly messing with her dark red hair, and eyeing Vernon in disgust.

"Really now?" I ask skeptically looking up from my breakfast, eyebrow raised. He's been doing this all summer, and I'm sick of it.

He puffs out his chest and nods stiffly.

"Well then you won't like it when Andrew hangs you from the ceiling like a fly caught in a web," says Harry smugly. I can tell he's struggling not to keep a straight face and he looks down at his plate.

Vernon turns purple with anger, "Don't you dare, one more word boy and—"

I cut him off, "What will you do?"

"Go on tell us what you really want to say," says Rachel faking happiness.

Vernon is shaking fists clenched around his silverware, which are slowly turning red. "I guess they'll have to go then," he chokes out.

"What did you expect?" I ask letting laughter escape freely.

"They're bored," Harry shrugs taking a bit out of his toast.

"You never let us take them out to fly, or let Drew walk Bruiser. Surely you didn't think they'd be quiet, now, did you Vernon?" Rachel asks rhetorically.

Vernon splutters furious words incoherently, before he's able to spew out four words, "—Just shut them up!"

"Or," I suggest, "You can let us talk to Hermione and Ron, and it'll feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders."  
Harry snickers behind his hand.

"Don't you dare mention your lot in this household—"

Rachel interrupts him, "Or what? You gonna beat us to death? In two seconds I could turn you into a toad, and Andrew can web you into a corner," she tells him bluntly. If she wanted to, Rachel could have Vernon in the ER right now, and she's psycho enough to do it. He better watch what he says.

Vernon roars and exchanges murderous glances with Petunia. Our whole entire summer has been like this. Vernon trying to rule over us, and we just toy with him until he's scared speechless.

Dudley lets out a huge burp.

"I want more bacon," announces Dudley really loudly.

"There's more in the frying pan, Dudders," says Petunia looking down affectionately on her great whale of a son. "Fatten you up while you're here because that school food just sounds disgusting to me."

"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I went to Smeltings," he says heartily. The three of us make fake gagging noises, which like always Vernon ignores. "Dudley gets enough don't you son?"

"Yeah," Rachel scoffs, "Enough to feed the entire continent of Africa."

I cover my mouth, and my head's halfway under the table. I'm pretty sure Vernon's going purple again.

"Pass the frying pan, Potter," I hear Dudley sneer.

"You forgot the magic word," says Harry irritably. There's a bang as my head bounces off the bottom of the table. Too bad I don't have time to escape Vernon's wrath. Harry I love you, as you are my brother but sometimes you can be really thick.

In an instant, Dudley crashes to the floor, Petunia acts like an invisible force is strangling her to death and Vernon's on his feet as purple as a grape. I feel like I live on one of Petunia's soap operas, I swear.

"I meant please," Harry adds quickly, but it's too late.

"Don't worry about them Harry. They're obviously too immature to notice you didn't mean our lot," says Rachel in annoyance.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING THE M' WORD IN MY HOUSE?" roars Vernon spewing spit all over the table. It's disgusting.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY?!" Vernon thunders pounding his large fist on the table sending my eggs flying.

I've had enough, I jump to my feet and forcefully pin him to the wall with my right forearm to his neck . "Enough, Vernon! Are we done?" I ask him slowly.

He nods, I let go of him. I've had enough of him; all he wants to do is waddle around being a complete jerk off.

Rachel gapes at me. "When did you grow a pair?"

I shrug, "He just knows how to make me angry, but he can't control me anymore."

Ever since we've been home they've been treating us like a bomb's ready to go off at any moment. He's locked all our textbooks, caldrons, robes, and our broomsticks in the cupboard, so if it wasn't for Rachel, we wouldn't be able to finish our summer assignments. It's a padlock, but he doesn't know Rachel can pick those, so we can at least work late into the night to finish them. We just stick the school assignments that we are working on under the floorboard in our room.

Only, we haven't gotten any messages from our friends. I feel like I'm in jail for a crime I didn't commit.

I miss Hermione so much, it's not funny. I miss William and Professor Snape. Heck, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I even miss Filch breathing down our necks as we almost die on our many excursions through the castle. I can't help but realize I am extremely lucky to be breathing right now.

Vernon clears his throat like he wants us to listen, "Now we all know today is a very important day."

Harry, Rach, and I exchange bewildered glances: Did he really remember today is Harry and Rachel's birthday?

" Mason's will be over tonight at eight," says Vernon.

Of course, I should've expected as much. Harry's expression darkens as he goes back to his toast. He's been talking about some rich builder that's gonna put in a very large order of drills for two weeks straight. It's getting old.

"I think we should run through the schedule. Petunia, you will be—"

"In the lounge," says Petunia proudly. It's a sick sight. "Waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."

"Right, and Dudley you'll be-?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door," Dudley puts on a fake smile.

"They'll love him!" cries Petunia. I have the strange urge to gag again.

Vernon rounds on Harry, and I. "And you?"

"We'll be in our bedroom," we recite like robots. "Making no noise and pretending that we don't exist."

He sneers nastily, "Too right you are. With any luck, this could very well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career, and you-will-not-mess-it –UP!"

We roll our eyes.

"I'll lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen—"

"I'll announce dinner," says Petunia.

"Dudley—"

"May I take you through the dining room Mrs. Mason?" says Dudley offering his fat arm to an invisible woman, the closest thing he will ever come to getting a date.

"And you?" Vernon asks turning to us.

"We'll be in our bedroom, making no noise and pretending that we don't exist."

"Right—I'm off to town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me, and you three," he snarls at us, "Stay out of your aunt's way while she's cooking."

Today is a beautiful day, we cross the lawn, and I start bellowing Happy Birthday obnoxiously and really off key. "Cheer up, Bro," I say taking out a small gift from my inside pocket and handing it to him. Then I give one to Rachel as well.

Harry rips the paper off my present to reveal a small Gryffindor lion that curls up in his hand and falls asleep.

"It's not much, but I'd figured you'd like it," I tell him.

"This is really cool. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," I say. For my birthday, they bought me a Quaffle and a new potions kit, the least I could do is this. I tried not to think about the cross around my neck Hermione bought me for my birthday. I shake the thought from my mind.

Rachel opens hers to reveal a small foghorn the size of a dime. "Is this what I think it is?" she asks her eyes lighting up.

I nod, "Again, it's not much, but I figure you could wake up Dudley, Draco or Fred and George without them knowing what's going on."

"I love it," she says hugging me. "Thank you." She says evilly, "Draco's not going know what hit him."

"Don't mention it," I sigh, "I miss Hermione and Ron."

"So do we," they say at once.

"I just can't believe they'd blow us off," I say angrily getting up from the bench and pacing back and forth in front of them. "Ron told us he'd be writing to us to come get us, and Hermione told me she'd write every day, yet we haven't received one letter from any of our friends. I thought Draco of all people would write to you, Rachel."

Rachel and Draco Malfoy have had a complicated relationship ever since Rach got sorted in Slytherin. It's really weird. It's like she hates him, he hates her. He likes her, she likes him kind of thing.

"I know, that would be the creeper thing for him to do," says Rachel. " But seriously, you love birds can't spend a day apart from each other," she says adoringly.

I roll my eyes. Why do girls see romance in everything?

"Oh come on, Andrew you two would be perfect for each other," she says.

"Um no," I say, "besides she likes Ron."

Harry snorts and Rachel continues, "No, Ron likes her. She, however," she sings pulling me back down on the bench, "Doesn't feel the same way."

"Well, she doesn't like me and I don't think of her in that way," I tell her crossly.

She stares at me and bursts out laughing. "Whatever." I'm mature about it and stick out my tongue at her.

Harry suddenly bolts upright on the bench.

"Bro," I say worriedly, "What's the matter?"

"The hedge has eyes, big ones!"

"Are you mad?" Rachel asks.

SLAP!

"Ow!" says Harry rubbing his cheek "What was that for?" I think that slap could've been heard from down the street.

She shrugs, "Trying to snap you out of it."

"I'm not mad, something's in the hedg—"

"I know what today is," sings Dudley waddling across the lawn.

"Yeah," says a very annoyed Rachel examining her nails, "I do too, if you don't shut up, it'll be the day you lose your testicles."

"Today's your birthday," Dudley sneers, "Haven't you got any cards?" he asks the twins, "Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"

"Nice insult mate," Rachel scowls, "Tell it again."

"Better not let your Mummy hear you talking about our school," says Harry coolly.

I snort , "Yeah, if you want to stay their son."

"Why are you staring at the hedge?" he asks Harry.

"Trying to decide what spell is best to set it on fire," Harry says slyly with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Try incendio," I say trying not to think of bright blue ones, but my mind goes there anyways.

"Sounds like a good idea," he says trying to hide a laugh.

"You c-can't—Dad told you you're not allowed to do m-magic—he said he'll kick you out—and you haven't got anywhere to go—you haven't got any friends to take you—"

Rachel burst out laughing, "Andrew's so called friend, because we all know it's something more, practically told him he could move in."

"She told me I could stay for the summer," I retort shortly.

She rolls her eyes.

"Jiggery pokery!" Harry starts in a fierce voice.

"Hocus pocus squiggly wiggly—" says Rachel playing along, "Abra Kedabra! No that's not right, Andrew will you web it up, should help a—"

"MUUUUUM!" howls Dudley tripping over his feet as he dashes back toward the house. "MUUUUUM! They're doing you know what!"

We pay for toying with Dudley. As Dudley and the hedge aren't in any way hurt, Petunia knew we didn't really do magic, but Harry has to dodge a soapy frying pan, and she tries to do the same to us, but I quickly web up her arm…but, it just makes it worse.  
She gives us a crap ton of work to do, with the promise that we won't eat again until it's finished.

Dudley watches us with an ice cream as we clean the windows, mow the lawn, trim the flower bed, wash the car, prune and water the roses(I do this in an instant. Having the ability to shoot water from your hands helps/), and repaint the garden bench. We did it quickly with the help of my webbing and my ability to climb walls as it isn't exactly traceable magic, but we had to do it slyly and subtly because we didn't want Dudley to rat us out. Rach and Harry help quickly because with their mind link, they work better than two people ever really.

We are sore, stiff, tired, sweaty, and hot, all because we took Dudley's bait.

Before we found out we found out Harry was a wizard, Rach was a witch, and I was a Mage (an ancient type of wizard whose powers are binded to a certain animal giving them odd magical abilities. They can't use wands. I'm a frog and at first it was embarrassing, but who knew that'd make you extremely powerful?) We had no one but each other, and now that we've found others like Hermione and Ron, it looks like we've lost them.

Maybe we are freaks.

We may look like typical kids, but our appearances can be deceiving. Being a Mage makes me look older than I actually am. I have a tall and lanky build. Greasy raven black hair hangs in my electric blue Mage-like eyes. Dark circles flank them like I've been punched. The eyes are what give me away. They are the hint that say I'm not normal.

Even though Rach and Harry are twins, they look nothing alike. You have Rach, known to many as one of the prettiest girls in our year when she's not out causing trouble with Ron's twin brothers Fred and George. Her dark wavy red hair brings out her lightly freckled face. She's built like Harry, short and scrawny, but she's shorter than him.

Harry has messy untamable black hair, round glasses, and he's a little skinnier than Rachel.

The thing that gives them away is their thin lightning scars. Harry has one on his forehead, while Rach has a small one by her right ear, about the size of a dime.

They are the closest two people I know, probably because they can read each other's minds, so not even their thoughts are private to each other unless they're really set on not letting the other know something; although, they've told me it's difficult and very tricky.

I can't believe it's been a year since we found out what we are. Now, we are being forced to do yard work, famous Andrew Prince and the Potter twins doing a butt load of non-magic labor. What would the people of the wizarding world think if they saw us?  
It's around five when we come back inside, and we stink. Man, I don't think I've ever felt this disgusting in my life even when I was covered in blood about a month and a half ago.

Petunia barks at us to walk on the newspaper which we do gratefully. I am so relieved when I step into the shower feel the hot water running on me. When I get out, I feel so much better. I get dressed, flip my wet hair out of my face, and go down to the kitchen where Rachel, wet haired from her shower, is scoffing down her dinner. Harry, seeing that we are finally out, bolts to the bathroom for his much needed shower.

I scoff down my two slices of bread and a lump of cheese along with Rachel, and I end up falling asleep on the living room couch from exhaustion.

Immediately, I feel myself being shaken awake by Rachel and Harry, "Come upstairs, the Masons are coming," she says through gritted teeth, but I can tell there is something else up too. I raise my eyebrows at my cousins.

"We er- sort of have a problem," says Harry, "A big one." I try not to panic, but I start to anyway because whenever the two of them say problem, it usually means it's life threatening.

I get up, and I am pulled to the bedroom by the both of them.

There is _something _on the bed.


	2. Dobby:)

**Chapter 2: Dobby**

**AN: Well, here's chapter two****J****I'm pretty pleased with how this chapter came out, considering I struggled for a while with it. So tell me if it's good or bad.**

I don't yell or scream out, but I think that's partly because I'm so shocked. It looks like a-a jumped up gnome on crack with big floppy ears and orb-like eyes.

"I believe this is the problem you were talking about, right?" I ask them nervously trying not to disturb it. It's not exactly beautiful; its got papery skin hanging off in folds...is it wearing a pillow case?

"Er…yeah," says Harry glancing sideways at me.

I hear Dudley ask to take the Mason's coats downstairs in a totally faked cheery voice, but it goes in one ear and out the other, as I'm too busy gawking at the thing on the bed.

"Uh, hi," says Rachel awkwardly inching toward the thing.

"Harry, Rachel Potter and Andrew Prince," says the creature bowing low to the floor, "What an honor it is."

"Thank you," Harry says uncomfortably. Those tennis ball sized eyes are starting to creep me out; it makes me shiver.

"What are you exactly?" I ask unable to contain my curiosity, and then I get the 'shut up now look' from Harry and Rachel. Mouthing sorry, I quickly start thinking of ways to trap the thing assuming whatever magic it has is threatening. What if it can shoot lightning from its eyeballs or something?

"Dobby sir, Dobby the house elf," says the creature.

I keep my mouth shut. There's like a twenty second awkward silence.

Harry is surprisingly the next one to speak. "Er- I don't mean to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time to have a house elf in our bedroom."

Of course, Harry, be polite to the thing. We don't even know if it's here to kill us yet. It's only half the size of Harry and Rach, but looks can be deceiving as I've said.

Petunia lets out a high false laugh from the living room as the elf hangs his head.

"Are you here to- uh kill us off?" I ask, "Because if so, please just get it ov-"

Rach smacks me upside the head interrupting. "Sorry," she says giving me a look, "Sometimes, he acts like he's still in diapers."

"Dobby is here to help you not hurt you," it says. "Never hurt you."

"Well, we're pleased to meet you," Harry says politely, "Why don't you sit down?"

To all of our horrors the elf starts crying…loudly…very loudly. His wails pierce the silent air, and rivulets of tears drip down his chin as he blows his nose with the pillowcase thing.

"Dobby, quiet, I'm sorry," Rach says quickly. "We're sorry."

"We never meant to offend you or anything," says Harry frantically.

"The whole, you know, killing us thing was really off base man, sorry," I tell him praying to God he'd shut up.

He wails louder.

"Offend Dobby!" he proclaims, "Dobby has heard of your greatness miss, sirs, but never has he been asked to sit down by wizards…like an equal," he says through tear-filled eyes.

"Yeah, we are pretty wicked," says Rachel smiling.

Harry, trying to say "Shh!" and look comforting at the same time, ushers Dobby back onto the bed where he sits hiccupping, staring at us in adoration. We really aren't much. I don't know why he's staring.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," says Harry, trying to cheer him up.

Dobby shakes his head. Then, without warning, he leaps up and starts banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" As his skin turns purple with bruising. Is it just me or has everybody gone mad in the past year and a half?!

"Are you insane?" I hiss coldly, springing up and throwing Dobby back onto the bed – the animals wake up and start going nuts. Hedwig and Mozart are screeching like crazy. Bruiser barks so loud it could've woken up the whole neighborhood.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," says the elf, who has gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family . . . ."

"Your family?" Harry and Rach ask at once as I try and shut the animals up which isn't going to well. I drag Bruiser up on the bed by his collar and scold him.

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir... Dobby is a house elf - bound to serve one family forever . ...'' His voice is trembling, like the wavering voice of a little kid's.

"Do they know you're here?" asks Harry curiously.

Dobby shudders.

"Oh, no, sir, no ... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir _"

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?" Rachel asks obnoxiously.

"Dobby doubts it, Miss. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, miss. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments ...' He continues in a tremulous voice.

"That's cruel," I say tossing blankets over the owls' cages. "Maybe you should cut down on the self-harm. It's not cool."

Dobby shrugs at me.

"But why don't you leave? Escape?" says Harry.

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free ... Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir . . . ."

We stare.

"And I thought the Dursleys were bad," says Harry.

"Tell me about it," says Rachel kneeling to comfort Dobby. She puts her arm around his little shoulders no doubt trying to be helpful.

"Can't we do something to help you though?" asks Harry voicing Rach's actions..

Dobby dissolves again into wails of gratitude.

"Please," Harry whispers, "please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here -"

"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby. Rachel Potter comforts Dobby ... Dobby has heard of your greatness, but of your goodness, sir and miss, Dobby never knew . ..."

Harry goes as red as a tomato and he says, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that's Hermione, she -"

But he stops quickly and I cringe inwardly. I think I let out a weird sort of noise because Harry apologizes immediately.

"The three of- so kind and humble. You speak not of your triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Voldemort?" says Harry. Rachel and I hit up upside the head.

Dobby claps his hands over his bat ears and moans, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry" says Harry quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron -"

"Sorry," I say , "It's a habit we all need to learn to quit out of respect. We just never knew."

Dobby leans toward us, his eyes wide as headlights.

'Dobby heard tell," he says hoarsely, "that Harry and Rachel Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago ... that Harry and Rachel Potter escaped Yet again. "

The twins nod and Dobby's eyes suddenly shine with tears.

,Ah, sir, miss," he gasps, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he's wearing. "Harry, Rachel Potter, and Andrew Prince are so valiant and bold! They has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect them, to warn them, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... They must not go back to Hogwarts."

Rachel scoffs, "Yeah, good luck with that, even if we wanted to, Andrew wouldn't. "Oh Hermione! How could I ever spend so long without you!" she mocks dramatically.

"Put a sock in it," I say clasping my hand over her mouth. She licks my hand and I quickly drop my hand, wiping it on her shoulder frowning. Yuck.

"W-what?" Harry stammers. "But We've got to go back - term starts on September first. It's all that's keeping us going. You don't know what it's like here. We don't belong here. We belong in your world - at Hogwarts."

Rachel and I nod. "It's true," Rach says.

"No, no, no," squeaks Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. You all must stay where you is safe. You's is too great, too good, to lose. If you's go back to Hogwarts, you's will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" we ask.

"There is a plot. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispers Dobby, suddenly trembling from head to foot. His voice has turned into a whisper as he stares at us out of the corners of his eyes,

"What terrible things?" says Harry at once, "Who's plotting them?"

"Why should we even listen to you?" I ask coolly. "Who put you up to this? Ron? Fred? George? Probably another one of their brilliant pranks."

Dobby makes a funny choking noise and then bangs his head against the wall repeatedly.

"All right!" cries Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. We understand. But why are you warning us?"

A sudden, unpleasant thought strikes me.

"Wait, is ole snake face trying to off us again?" I ask.

You could just shake or nod," Harry says hastily as Dobby's head tilts worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shakes his head. "Not -not He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sirs."

But Dobby's eyes are wide and he seems to be trying to give us a hint.

"So it is about him!" Rachel shrieks.

"Well then, no one can hurt us at Hogwarts," says Harry, "Not as long as Dumbledore is around."

"Come _on_ Bro," I say throwing up my hands, and hang my head, "he's like a hundred years old."

Harry and Rach just swat at me.

Dobby bows his head.

"But there are powers…he has…not…decent wizards."

And before we can stop him, Dobby bounces off the bed, seizes Harry's desk lamp, and starts beating himself on the head with earsplitting yelps.

A sudden silence falls downstairs. Two seconds later my heart goes ninety miles an hour as we hear Vernon coming into the hall, calling, "Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"

I grab Dobby impulsively around the pillowcase and toss him into the closet and shut the door quickly. The three of us immediately fling ourselves into our designated places.

"What the devil are you doing up here?" says Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Harry's. I have a terrible urge to punch him. My jaw starts jumping. Who is he to do this to us? "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke ... One more sound and you'll all wish you'd never been born!"

He stomps flat-footed from the room.

Shaking, I let Dobby out of the closet.

"See what it's like here?" Harry says. "See why we've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got -well, I think I've got friends. "

I suddenly get really nauseous.

"We've got friends, you two," says Rachel, "Andrew you know Hermione adores you."

I have to have gone pale, "THINK about it Rachel! We haven't heard anything from them. She probably just thinks I'm a freak." My stomach drops, what happened? Why does she hate me again? It took a lot last year. Do I have to do it again? It hurts worse than McGonagall's chest board.

"Friends who don't even write to you?" says Dobby slyly.

"I expect they've just been – hang on," says Harry, frowning. "How do you know our friends haven't been writing to us?"

Dobby shuffles his feet.

"You's mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best - "

"IT's been YOU!" I shout angrily leaping to my feet, feeling my eyes turn red. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE'VE BEEN THROUGH?!"

"Dobby has them here, sir," says the elf sadly. Stepping nimbly out of my reach, he pulls a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he's wearing.

I try to web them to me—

But when I try, it won't work.

I try again, and again.

Dobby looks smugly at me. I let out a strangled cry and lunge toward him. He slips through my grasp.

"Drew, calm down!" Rachel scolds.

I snarl, "Don't tell me what to do!" I have needed my friends all summer, and they have been writing to me. I want those letters worse than I ever wanted my Hogwarts one.

"You's mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped ... if Harry, Rachel, and Andrew thought their friends had forgotten them ... They might not want to go back to school,. ...

Harry isn't listening. He makes a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumps out of reach.

I grab the letters out of his pillowcase and pocket them. I smile nastily at him. Ha! He's not going to mess with us anymore.

"Andrew has left Dobby no choice." Maybe I spoke too soon. _Craaaap_.

Before we can move, Dobby darts to the bedroom door, pulls it open, and sprints down the stairs.

Feeling like I'm going to be sick, I spring after him, trying not to make a sound with Rachel and Harry at my heels. Forget the stairs I jump them all, while Harry and Rachel jump the last six steps, landing catlike on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the dining room we hear Vernon saying, ". . . tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear. . . "

We run up the hall into the kitchen and I think we all feel our stomachs die right then and there.

Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, is floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard, in the corner, crouches Dobby.

"No," croaks Harry. "Please ... they'll kill us ..."

"You must say you's not going back to school -"

"Fine," Rachel lies, "I won't."

"Dobby ... please ..."

"Say it, you two -"

"I won't," I lie through my teeth looking at Harry, but he does the noble thing.

"I can't -"

Dobby gives us a tragic look.

"Then Dobby must do it, sir, for the Kids Who Liveds' own good."

The pudding falls to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splatters the windows and walls as the dish shatters. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanishes before I can strangle him. Anger boils within me. Why me?! Why is it always me?!

There are screams from the dining room and Vernon bursts into the kitchen to find Harry, Rachel, and I, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Petunia's pudding. So angry, I can kill him, I stare straight into Vernon's fat face. Don't kill him, Andrew. Don't do it. I grit my teeth trying not to explode.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.

At first, it looks as though Vernon will manage to gloss the whole thing over. ("Just our nephews and our niece - very disturbed, meeting strangers upsets them, that's why we kept them up stairs) He shoos the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promises us all he will flay us to within an inch of our lives when the Masons leave, and hands us a mop. Aunt Petunia digs some ice cream out of the freezer and we, still shaking, scrub the kitchen floor clean. The mop is shaking violently in my hands, and I'm half a second away from just breaking it across my knee in two. They cannot do this to us! I just have to tell myself to grin and bear it.

Petunia is just passing around a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swoops through the dining room window, drops a letter on Mrs. Mason's head, and swoops out again. Mrs. Mason screams like a banshee and runs from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stays just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this is their idea of a joke.

Rachel and Harry, exchange bewildered glances looking like they are deciding whether they are going to run for cover. I stand there staring at the floor, numb. It doesn't look like Vernon is going to get his deal now, and he comes into the kitchen snarling worse than Bruiser around tarantulas. Without warning, Vernon advances on us.

"Read it!" he hisses evilly, brandishing the letter the owl has delivered. "Go on - read it!"

Rachel takes it, and starts reading it. It's definitely not a Birthday card.

"Dear Mr. and Ms. Potter,

We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.

Enjoy your holidays! Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic."

Rachel looks up from the letter, glances at us, and gulps.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," says Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "For got to mention it ... Slipped your mind, I daresay ..." This is not good.

I clench my fists as hard as I can. Don't kill him, Andrew. Don't do it. Stop.

He is bearing down on the three of us like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you, children.… I'm locking you up…. You're never going back to that school… you are never going to see those freaky friends of yours again… never…and if you try and magic yourself out - they'll expel you!"

And laughing like a maniac, he drags us back upstairs. He practically throws us into our room. I want to take his head off.

Don't kill him, Andrew. Don't do it.

"Gahhh!" There's a big crunching noise as I put a hole in the wall and sink to the floor. Rachel and Harry seem concerned, but they sit still on the bed staring at me. I hold my head in my hands feeling weak and unable to do anything helpful. We're screwed. I'm screwed. I can't stop the crying from coming. I just do my best to cover it up with my hair, and look down.

Nobody talks. Silence. Because we know not even Rachel's lock picking skills are going to get us out of this one. I fall asleep dreams filled a tombstone reading Dursley on it. I jerk myself awake. I'm sweating and breathing heavily. I turn over and hit my pillow repeatedly. _This isn't me!_

In the morning, I almost stab Vernon with a quill when he comes into our room to measure the window from the inside. I have it elevated in my hand like it was a knife. If I aim carefully, maybe I can hit the right spot...When he turns, I realize what I am doing and drop the quill weakly. What's happening to me?

A man comes to fit bars on our window about an hour later. He leaves when the work is finished and Vernon pays him.

Vernon himself fits a cat- flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food can be pushed inside three times a day. I stay on the other side of the room with my back shoved up against the wall. Something's wrong. All I can think of is smothering him. I can't seem to control myself.

The let us out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, we are locked in the room round the clock. I feel like I'm going to die. Thoughts of killing Vernon in so many different ways run through my mind and I can't stop it. I tried to kill my uncle. I hate him, but…murder? It's like a blackness that I can't control. I lay on my stomach and sob as quietly as possible. What would Harry and Rachel think?

I remember the letters and read them over and over and over. Hermione, Professor Snape, and William's words are like heaven because they are the only thing that helps. I think I need therapy.

I wonder how Dr. Nicely would feel if I paid him in wizard money? _Oh my gosh_, I groan in my head.

I grab my hair with my right hand trying to hide my problems from the twins who were preoccupied with having a conversation in their heads.

We are in our designated spots, Rach at the window seal, me on the floor, and Harry on the bed.

"Looks like we're back to the old days and the cupboard under the stairs," Rachel says sadly.

Harry and I nod.

"At least we know we still have friends and they're worried about us," I say weakly thinking of the letters.

For Harry it was Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. For Rachel though, it was Fred, George, and Malfoy.

I have to get out of here, or I'm going to burst through that door, and Vernon Dursley is going to die. I'm not a killer and I refuse to stay here and become one.

I have a plan, and I tell the twins so they can act like I'm in here when the Dursleys want to know where I am. I don't know how long we may be stuck in here, and I know my powers are untraceable.

All the twins have to say is, "Be careful."

We say our goodbyes as I pick the lock to the room, and slink down the stairs. I hop onto the ceiling, and I sneak out past the Dursleys whose eyes are glued to the T.V. I kick down the door as fast as I can to get as far away from Vernon as possible. I'm sure I made a lot of noise, but I don't care. He's better angry than dead.

I jump as far as I can into the air, and let out a web, with my destination in mind: The Weasley's.

I feel so free. William did say if I didn't get my powers under control, I'd become a murderer and I'm not going to let that happen. I'm taking Harry and Rachel with me too.

The journey is long and tiring, but after twelve long hours, I've made it. I'm so exhausted.

I drop down in the dirt in front of the house, such a weird sight. It's an extremely unorganized house that looks like it's held up by magic.

I have to be sneaky about this, Ron's parents probably won't be of any help, but I know Fred and George will, even if it's the middle of the night.

I web up onto the side of the house, climbing up, trying to find which one belongs to the mischievous twins. I come upon their room, and they are fast asleep on their bunk beds. Their fiery red hair is shining through the darkness.

I pull up the window, and climb in. I walk over to them as quietly as possible, "Fred, George," I whisper.

"ARGGGHHHHH!" They roll off their beds, and Fred falls on top of George.

Taking off my hood immediately so they know it's me, I say "Shhhhhhhhh!It's me, Andrew."

"What are you doing here? Where have you been? We've all been worried sick," they say at once.

"Shhh," I say, "We've been locked up at the Dursleys. They say we aren't going back to Hogwarts, and we're being starved. Grab Ron, I need your guys's help. We need to break Harry and Rachel out, but there are bars on the windows, and we need help carrying our school stuff out all at once, otherwise, I would've just came here with them myself. I don't want to tell them I almost killed my uncle because I don't want to end up in the wizard nutter bin. Maybe I am evil.

They grin mischievously at each other through the dark, "The car."

"Excuse me?" I ask wondering what they're going on about. How is a car going to break bars that are two stories up?

"Hold on," says George, "Fred, go grab our brother."

Fred nods. "We're in," he says as he goes quietly from the room.

"So how exactly is the car going to help anything?"

"Oh," says George, "Dad bewitched a muggle car to fly."

My jaw drops, "A flying car?"

George nods as Fred and Ron come in.

"Okay, so here's the plan. We already had it planned out, because we were going to break you out anyway," says Ron before sending off a letter with the family owl. "We go get the twins, and the school stuff, and fly back here. When we're back, we just sneak up to bed and sleep. Then, when we wake up, we'll be like hey mom, look who showed up in the middle of the night."

The plan has a lot of flaws, but we are in a hurry, so it'll have to do.

We sneak out of the house down the multiple flights of steps and into the dark careful not to wake someone like Percy up. We creep through the yard to where the Ford Angelia is parked, open the car doors and hop in. Fred in the driver's seat while George takes shotgun, and Ron takes the back seat with me.

"Are you sure you can fly this thing?" I ask uneasily settling into my seat.

Fred and George look at each other insulted. "Are you doubting our skills?" asks George.

"I'm hurt, Drew, I really am," says Fred dramatically holding his chest.

"They've been flying this thing since they were nine in secret," says Ron casually chuckling, "They'll be ok. Go to sleep. You look beat," he says examining me closely as Fred starts the engine and the car roars to life, and we take off.

_You has no idea. I feel like I'm fighting a war inside my head._

But, I feel so much better now that I'm away from prison. I feel much more like a benign frog. It puts me at ease.

Although, my peace fades a little when I put on my seat belt and hang on for dear life. This is way worse than flying on a broom.

The Weasleys laugh at me, but I just ignore them. After I get over the shock of riding in a flying car, I fall asleep quickly dreaming of a familiar pair of warm brown eyes.

"Wake up, lazy bones, we're here!" Ron screams in my ear jerking me awake. I look around remembering I'm in a flying car. I yawn as I look through the bars beside Ron in the car. Harry and Rachel are asleep.

"Poke him with the stick," says Fred laughing.

Ron takes out a stick from under the seat and sticks it through the bars, poking Harry in the face. I can't help, but chuckle.

"Stop it," Harry mutters. "Leave me alone ... cut it out ... I'm trying to sleep . . . ."

He pokes him again.

Harry and Rachel sit up tiredly.

"Ron! Andrew!" They cry joyfully.

**AN: Totally irrelevant, but go see Spider-Man two because it really is amazing, and take my poll.**


	3. At The Burrow

Chapter 3: The Burrow

"How the-What the-?" says Harry.

I grin at him, "I brought help." I'm strangely proud of myself at the moment.

He slides the window open so we could talk.

"Hey," drawls Fred or George -I'm thinking it's George- from the front seat.

"Are you forgetting us, or are you just happy to see Ron and Andrew?" asks Fred leaning out of the car window with a grin identical to mine.

"Fred, George!" squeals Rach, "If I could hug you two I would!"

"Are you two alright?" asks George with concern.

"Andrew showed up in the middle of the night with little to no information," says Ron mimicking Rachel's Death Glare of Doom at me. Oops, "I've asked you all to stay twelve times, don't even get me started on how many freak out letters I've gotten from Hermione, William, and Snape for who knows what reason, mind you, he gets really weird around Rachel and Andrew, but I swear if Malfoy doesn't stop sending letters about how he's worried sick, I think I'm going to barf. Then Dad comes home saying he's gotten word from the Ministry saying you've been using magic in front of the Muggles-"

"Sorry," I interrupt laughing, now registering that all I told them was I needed help breaking them out.

"It wasn't us," says Harry, "How'd did your dad even know?"

"He works for the Ministry," says Ron, "You three need to be careful, you know you're not supposed to use magic out-"

"Oh and you should talk," snaps Rachel gesturing at the flying car.

"Doesn't count," says Ron grinning mischievously, "We didn't enchant it, R.J., Dad did. But using magic-"

"We've already told you we didn't do it," I say, "not like I could if I tried…Let's just get them out."

"Right," says Ron, "Well we're breaking you out now. Stand back."

"You can't use magic either," says Harry grumpily.

"Don't need to," says Ron. He looks at Rach, "Have you taught them nothing of Fred and George?"

She just grins and shrugs.

"Tie this around the bars," Fred says tossing a rope to Harry.

He does as he's told looping it tightly around the prison bars.

"You do realize if the Durselys wake up we're dead, right?" says Harry.

"You do realize if they do, I'll web them up, right?" I ask him. He grins.

"Right," says Fred, "Stand back."

They go back toward the bed.

The car revs louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars are pulled clean out of the window as Fred drives straight up in the air. Harry and Rachel back to the window to see the bars dangling a few feet above the ground. I pull them up into the car as fast as I can. Thankfully, there is no noise from the Dursleys' bedroom.

When the bars are safely in the back seat with Ron and I, Fred reverses as close as possible to the bedroom window.

"Get in," Ron says.

"But our school stuff," we start. Opening the car door, I jump froglike into the window. Rachel fist bumps me. I'm just glad I don't have to stay here.

"Where is it?" asks Fred.

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs,"

"No problem," says George from the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, people."

Fred and George climb catlike through the window into our room.

"Nope, I got this," says Rachel holding up a hand.

Rachel takes out her trusty hair pin, and picks the lock.

There's a small click and the door swings open.

"Nice," says Fred complementing Rachel's lock picking work.

"So - we'll get your trunks - you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron," whispers George.

"Watch out for the bottom stair - it creaks," Harry whispers back as the twins disappear onto the dark landing.

We dash around our room, collecting our things and passing them out of the window to Ron. I grab the stuff that's under the floorboard. Rachel and I get in the car with Bruiser and Mozart, and help Ron slide our trunks in as Harry goes down to help Fred and George with his trunk.

At last, panting, they reach the landing, then carry the trunk through our room to the open window. Fred climbs back into the driver's seat, and I grab a hold of the trunk to pull it in, but I hit the top of the car. I cringe as it makes a lot of noise.

Vernon coughs.

"Just hurry up," says Fred pull it in.

I do as I'm told using my super strength to pull the trunk into the back seat of the car with Rachel and I's trunks…We have to squeeze in on top of them.

"Okay, let's go," George whispers.

But as Harry climbs onto the windowsill, there's a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!"

"Really Harry?" I moan, pulling my sleeves up to reveal my lime green and black web shooters. I might need to hold off Vernon.

"Sorry!" Harry calls loudly. Oh, like making more noise is going to help things man.

I hop over Rachel to the window to get a good aim while Harry tears back across the room as the landing light clicks on - he snatches up Hedwig's cage, dashes to the window, and passes it out to Ron. He is scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Vernon hammers on the unlocked door and it crashes open.

For a split second, Uncle Vernon stands framed in the doorway; then he lets out a bellow like an angry bull and dives at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.

I grab Harry and pull him off of Vernon with ease and into the car. We slam the door shut. I didn't think about killing Vernon so I let out a sigh and smile.

"Petunia!" roars Uncle Vernon. "They're getting away! THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!"

I finally am able to get a good shot and web his mouth shut. The dude loses his balance and flips out the window. Thank goodness there are bushes to break his fall, otherwise it could've killed him.

"Drive!" yells Ron, and the car shoots suddenly toward the moon.

I throw my head back and laugh. We're free.

Harry rolls down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looks back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Vernon now free of webbing, Petunia, and Dudley are all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window.

"See you next summer!" Harry yells.

"Or not," hollers Rachel out the window.

We all roar with laughter and Harry settles back in his seat, also grinning from ear to ear.

"Let Hedwig and Mozart out," he tells Ron. "They can fly behind us. They haven't had a chance to stretch their wings for ages."

George hands the hairpin to Rachel and, a moment later, Hedwig and Mozart soar joyfully out of the window to glide alongside us like a ghost.

"So - what's the story, guys?" says Ron impatiently. "What's been happening?"

We tell them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given us and the incident with the pudding.

"Very fishy," says Fred finally.

"Definitely dodgy" agrees George. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," says Harry. "We told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall. He was going nuts."

"Seriously," I say, "it's like he had mental issues or something, but he did say something about Voldemort."

They wince.

"Oh for goodness sakes, it's just a name," I say.

"Was he lying to us?" Rach asks.

"Well," says Fred, "put it this way - house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

That didn't convince me. Voldemort tried to off us last year. Why couldn't he do it again?

"Not really," I say, but Harry and Ron say yeah.

"Hmmm, like half the school," says Rachel.

We all stare at her. I don't even wanna know.

"Malfoy," Harry explains. "He hates me."

"But look at all the letters he's been sending me about how he's worried," says Rachel.

"Yeah, it can't be him," I say nudging Rachel suggestively, "He's got a huge crush on her." Rach's face is now beet red.

"I guess," says Harry.

"Draco Malfoy?" says George, turning around and I can't help noticing he's gone a bit pink around the ears. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Well, it's not a very common name, is it?" says Harry.

"I've heard Dad talking about him," says George. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."

"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," says Fred, craning around to look at Harry, Rach, and I, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You- Know-Who's inner circle."

We've all heard these rumors about Malfoy's family before, and they don't really surprise us. Then again, we don't think Draco would be right buddies with Voldemort if he's got a crush on one of Voldemort's three worst enemies, although, sometimes he makes Dudley look like an okay guy.

"I still don't think it was Draco," says Rachel, "but he does brag a lot about his servants. Whether or not that's Dobby or not, well, that's a different story."

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," says Fred.

"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," says George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house . . . ."

"He is filthy rich, but I still think if he heard we got bars put on our windows, he'd do anything possible to make sure we show up at Hogwarts," I say.

"I'm glad we came to get you, anyway," says Ron. "I was getting really worried when you guys didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first

-"

"Who's Errol?" asks Harry.

"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes -"

"Who?" asks Harry and Rach together at once.

"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," says Fred from the front.

"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him."

"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," says George, frowning. "And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room ... I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge ... You're driving too far west, Fred," he adds, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddles the steering wheel.

"So," says Rachel grinning evilly, "You stole the car didn't you?"

"Of course," says Ron, "Dad had to work tonight. Hopefully, we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."

I roll my eyes. " How's your guys' summer been?"

"Oh you know," says Fred.

"The usual," says George, "We've got some big plans this year."

"Should we be worried?" asks Harry.

"Only you and Andrew," says George mischievously.

"We were hoping Rachel would help us out a bit," says Fred.

"Of course you were," I say shaking my head.

"Heck yeah, I'm in," says Rachel a bit too enthusiastically.

"Hermione and Percy are going to kill you three," I warn.

"Not exactly," says George, "The only thing Percy's focused on is the thing that he's hiding-"

"And we were hoping that you'd distract your girlfriend," says Fred cheekily.

I nod rolling my eyes, like that's going to happen. Hermione would figure out I was lying in a split second. "Hermione would figure it out faster than Harry can catch a snitch, and she's not my girlfriend, guys."

They wave me off.

"Hey, that reminds me," I say, "Rach, are you trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team this year?"

"Well, I was thinking about it," says Rachel, "I'd like to give Harry some competition in the Seeker department," she nudges him in the ribs, "Slytherin might be able to give Gryffindor a run for its money this year."

"Yeah, you wish," Ron says, "We've got the best team all 'round. I reckon if Harry and Andrew weren't bound to the hospital wing, we would've won last year."

"You should join. We're gonna love kicking your butt all the way around the Quidditch pitch," says Fred who has determination etched into his heavily freckled face.

"Pshh," says Rachel obviously defeated.

"You're so on, sis," says Harry looking almost proud.

"That's the main road," says George, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes ... Just as well, it's getting light . . . ."

A faint pinkish glow is visible along the horizon to the east.

Fred brings the car lower, and we're able to see a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

"We're a little way outside the village," says George. "Ottery St. Catchpole."

Lower and lower we go. The edge of a brilliant red sun is now gleaming through the trees.

"Touchdown!" says Fred as, with a slight bump, we hit the ground. We have landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and we look out the window at the Burrow.

"It's not much," says Ron. "But it's home."

"It's wonderful," says Harry happily.

"It would probably give Aunt Petunia a heart attack!" Rachel says looking at the Burrow for the first time.

"No kidding," I say shoving open the car door. "Come on Bruiser, out," I order as my obese light brown and white bulldog bounds out of the car. He's still obese even after living at the Dursleys all summer.

We all get out of the car.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," says Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, `Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry, Rach, and Drew, no one need ever know we flew the car."

"Right," says Ron. "Come on, you three, I sleep at the - at the top..."

Ron goes a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. We all wheel around.

Mrs. Weasley is marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and it's amazing how intimidating a middle-aged, plump woman can actually look.

"Ah, "says Fred.

"Oh, dear," says George.

"I'm guessing that's your mum, then," says Rachel.

"Yep," they reply in unison.

"Greaaat," I say, "You know, she looks more menacing than that chessboard," I say thoughtfully.

"Uh-huh," the twins agree.

Mrs. Weasley comes to a halt in front of us, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. It's like she's a cop. I don't look her in the eyes. This is my fault.

"So, "she says.

"Morning, Mum," says George trying to seem innocent, which everyone knows that that's never going to happen.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" says Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

"Mrs. Weasley they had to-" the three of us start.

All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons are taller than she was, but they cower as her rage breaks over them. It's pretty amusing.

"Beds empty! No note! Car gone – You could've died! You could've been seen! - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy -"

"Perfect Prefect Percy," mutters Fred.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yells Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job -"

I stay silent. There's no way we can do anything to get them out of this one, and I feel like crap because it's all my fault. They don't deserve to get chewed out because they saved Harry and Rachel.

It seems to go on for hours. We've been up all night, and I feel like I'm going to fall over from exhaustion again. Mrs. Weasley has now shouted herself hoarse. She turns on us and I have a feeling we are all terrified.

"I'm very pleased to see you, dears," she says. "Come inside and have a spot of breakfast. We've all been worried sick."

She turns and walks back into the house stranding the three of us out of here, after three nervous glances at Ron, who nods encouragingly, we follow her.

Harry, Rach and I sit tiredly down at the table looking around the first magic house we've ever been in.

The clock on the wall opposite of us has a bunch of hands with tiny faces that I expect are all the Weasleys on them and no numbers at all. Written around the edge are things like Home, work, sick, school, lost and so on. Books are stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts - It's Magic!

Plus the DJ on the old rusty radio next to the sink just announced , "Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck."

Mrs. Weasley is clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she throws sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she mutters things like "don't know what you were thinking of," and "never would have believed it."

I'd believe it, she does have some of the most troublesome sons ever to set foot in Hogwarts, but that's just my opinion.

"I don't blame you, Harry," she assures him, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. "Or you Rachel and Andrew," she says putting just as much on our plates, and we're so hungry we dig in at once. " Like I've said, Arthur and I have been worried about you three, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," (she was now adding three fried eggs to each of our plates) "flying an illegal car halfway across the country - anyone could have seen you -"

She flicks her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which begin to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background. ("Whoa," breathes Rachel)

"It was cloudy, Mum!" says Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snaps.

"They were starving them, Mum!" says George.

"They put bars on their window," says Ron.

She rounds on him, "You best hope I don't put bars on your window Ronald Weasley!"

Ron looks as though he's seen a ghost.

"And you!" says Mrs. Weasley rounding on George again, but it is with a slightly softened expression that she starts cutting Harry, Rachel, and I bread and buttering it for us. Nobody has ever really fussed this much over us. It's going to take a while for us to get used to it.

At that moment there is a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appears in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and runs out again up the steps without saying anything. She looked like she was going to too.

"Ginny," says Ron in an undertone to the three of us. "My sister. She's been talking about you guys all summer."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry, Andrew," Fred says with a grin," Rachel," but he catches his mother's eye and bends his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more is said until all six plates are clean, which takes a not so surprisingly short time.

"Blimey, I'm tired," yawns Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and -"

"You will not," snaps Mrs. Weasley. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again -"

"Oh, Mum -"

"And you two," she says, glaring at Ron and Fred. "You can go up to bed, dears," she adds to the three of us. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car -"

"But we're glad they did," I put in, "if they didn't we wouldn't be here."

"They did us a huge favor, Mrs. Weasley," says Rachel trying to help the three of them.

She nods understandingly but the harsh look in her eyes says it's not going to work.

"I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming -"

"Us too," Rachel and I say.

"That's very sweet of you, dears, but it's dull work," says Mrs. Weasley.

"Thanks," says Harry, "but I think I'm making Ginny uncomfortable enough as it is," glancing toward the steps where Ginny Weasley is peaking her head through the wooden railing on the stair case. She seems to be going a deep red. "Rachel come on," he turns to me, "don't you have a letter to write?"

"Uh, yeah, right," I say scratching the back of my head awkwardly. Harry chuckles at me.

"What?" I ask him. Then I turn to Rach. "Can I borrow Mozart, Rachel?"

"Oh, yeah, he flew up to Ron's room."

"I'm up top," says Ron, "just go up the stairs."

I nod, before sprinting up the steps. I get to write to Hermione. I can't help grinning, and of course not looking where I'm going, I collide with the youngest Weasley girl, sending her down onto the steps. Out of reflex I am able to keep her from tumbling down them.

I sigh, "Sorry," I mumble practically picking her up. "I've got to quit meeting girls like this."

"What'd you mean?" she asks shyly looking up at me. She's even shorter than Rachel.

I swat at her, "Oh nothing, it's just how I met my friend Hermione."

"The smart girl Ron's been talking about all summer?" she asks giggling.

"Yeah, anyway, I've gotta go write a letter…you know where Ron keeps his pens and paper, or which one of these rooms is his?" I ask looking around.

She chuckles, "Sure, follow me," she leads me up the zigzagging stair case until we reach a door that says ' Ronald's Room.

"Well, that was easy," I muse. She pushes open the door, and I have to bend down to keep my head from touching the sloping ceiling.

Ginny giggles, "Yep."

"Whoa did everything just go orange?" I ask a little taken aback.

"Uh-huh. Chudley Cannons, Ron's obsessed. " she says shaking her head, "Parchment and quills're in the top drawer. For the record, Harpies are sooo much better, but I suppose you'd be a fan of Ireland."

"Thanks ….why are you so different around me?" I ask pulling open the drawer grabbing a quill and piece of paper, before sitting down at the desk.

There's an awkward silence, and I turn around and face her. "Are you writing to Hermione?" she asks quietly.

I nod, and she says, "I know, Andrew."

I raise an eyebrow, "Know what?" I ask quizzically.

"I'm not stupid, I read every single one of those letters she wrote to Ron fussing about you."

"Ah sneaky little sister are you?" I say, "but what's that got to do with the fact that you act differently around me, than you do Harry."

"It's obvious there's something going on between you and Hermione," she says incredulously. She goes into a giggling fit.

"Not you too?" I moan shaking my head. I run a hand through my greasy hair. I can't be with her. Ever. I'm sick, I'm crazy, and I may be evil. The verdict is still out on that one.

"Come on, Andrew, you can't say you don't fancy her, even a little?" she asks laying a hand on my arm.

"She's my best friend… and sure she's cute—"

"You said she's cute!" she says excitedly, "And she doesn't have a clue about the way you feel. Ron's been talking to her bout it all summer." Are girls all the same? Stop thinking every single relationship with the opposite sex is going to end up being the next cheesy romance novel! For goodness sakes.

"Even if I liked her, which I don't," I reply carefully flustered, "It wouldn't make any difference," I look down at the blank piece of paper, why does this feel so weird? "Besides, I'm pretty sure your brother fancies her."

"I just met you and you have a hundred times the personality Ron does," she says with a bit of sass.

"That doesn't matter, Harry's even better looking than me."

"Yes, but that's not what I'm saying," says Ginny simply blushing.

"Oh no, you fancy my cousin?" I ask.

She blushes hard again. "That obvious?"

I nod, "The dashing Harry Potter… you really like him?" I ask laughing.

"Yeah, he's hero of the Wizarding world, the iconic scar? What's not to like?" She seems a bit embarrassed, and a light blush is gracing her face.

I laugh even harder, "One third of the heroes of the wizarding world, but yeah, he's a nice guy."

"I'm glad you see it my way," she says plopping down onto Ron's bed as I start my letter. "And don't worry bout Ron, he's nothing. Plus, Hermione was really worried," she sings the really worried part.

I smile at her with a red face before putting my quill to the paper.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Fred, George, and Ron just rescued us from our jail cell, and I mean a jail cell. The Dursleys actually put bars on our window. We're fine; stop your worrying. I may have almost killed Uncle Vernon, but I'm fine now._

_We are getting fed don't worry, Mrs. Weasley's cooking is a hundred times better than even Hogwarts, and we both know that's saying something. Please stop worrying. Your worrying is worrying me. You don't have to worry. Again, I'm fine, I can just see you fussing right now, so stop. I'll see you in Diagon Alley or on the train._

_Love,_

_Andrew_

_P.S. Stop worrying or I will sic Hedwig and Mozart on you._

I tie the letter to Mozart, and send it off. I hope I'm fine now.

"Took you long enough," smirks Ginny.

I roll my eyes.

We hear the door slam down stairs.

"That'd be Dad," sighs Ginny, "Come on let's go."

We run down the steps in time to see Mr. Weasley sitting down at the kitchen table just as the others barge into the kitchen.

"Gnomes are disgusting!" Rachel groans clutching her hand to her chest. "It bit me! They don't even look like fat Santa Clauses."

"You'll be fine," says George warmly taking her injured hand, "Mom can you get a wet washrag over here?"

Mrs. Weasley hurries over to the sink running warm water over a washcloth and handing or should I say attempting to as George snatches it out of her hand and putting it over Rachel's hand as gently as possible, wiping the blood off.

"Thank you," says Rach quietly.

He takes out his wand, mutters an incantation, and it heals right up.

"George!" Mrs. Weasley scolds, "No magic! If you didn't live in a magical house, you could've been expelled!"

"Excuse me for healing her!" George protests, muttering about Rachel bleeding to death.

"Lighten up Molly, he just helped her—eh who are you?" asks Mr. Weasley grabbing a tea pot.

"Rachel Potter," Rachel responds automatically. Then she looks up embarrassed, like she said something wrong.

"Good lord are you really?" he asks. He turns to Harry and then to me, "That'd make you Harry and Andrew, right?" We nod, but before we can do anything, Mrs. Weasley explodes again, something about underage magic, the enchanted car. Rachel, Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, and I somehow manage to escape outside.

We collapse in the grass under the shade of an old oak tree in the back yard.

"Is it always this hectic around here?" I ask the Weasley kids laughing nervously, "It's almost as bad as Hogwarts."

"That's the beauty of magic," says Fred chuckling. "Just wait till she's done with Dad, then she'll come for George."

"And then Fred," says Ginny.

"The only one she doesn't get at really is Percy. But she really does mean well," says George thoughtfully.

"Dad's been getting eight or nine raids a day, forcing him into overtime," says Fred.

"Raids?" Rach, Harry, and I ask at once.

"Dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Dad loves Muggles. He thinks they're fascinating," says Ron.

"So you three..wi-will be getting the M-Muggle interrogation soon," says Ginny shyly.

I give her an encouraging smile pushing her in the shoulder playfully. She tumbles into the grass and I just laugh at her.

We lay there talking about school and Quidditch for an hour before Mrs. Weasley starts lecturing George, and Rachel goes to Ginny's room where she'll be sleeping while we head up to Ron's room.

"It's small," says Ron, "But it's all I need."

"It's brilliant," says Harry making Ron go pink around the ears.

"It's also orange," I muse and I throw a sleeping bag on the floor.

An: sorry for fake update . I have no idea what happened


	4. Fight at Flourish and Blotts

AN: I don't own Harry Potter. Don't Sue me.

OH my gosh guys! 99 hearts on quotev! (113 Counting ) Thank you guys so much for supporting my story. Thanks to all who have reviewed, hearted, commented on, or alerted my story. It means more than you know! Here's Chapter 4.

**Chapter 4: Fight at Flourish and Blotts.**

I got Hermione's reply in the morning. It's like a repeat of our first Quidditch match all over again. I just about died laughing.

_Dear Drew,_

_Thank Goodness! I was beginning to think something terrible happened! Don't get me wrong; that's positively horrifying, but I was beginning to think you three had died or something._("She really was," says Ginny. "It was really… entertaining.")

_You need to talk to William if you are having murderous ideas. I'm serious Andrew. You're not evil, but if you lose control and kill a muggle you'll go to Azkaban, the wizard prison if you didn't know, for life. No one wants that. We all care about you. Azkababan is an awful place. Please address that problem ASAP._

_I also heard you showed up in the middle of the night at the Burrow exhausted. Ron said you looked dead. You didn't web swing all the way there did you? Are you ok? Did you get Harry and Rachel out of the Dursleys without doing anything illegal, because that would get Harry and Rachel into trouble as well._

Hope she never finds out about the stolen car, then.

_I've been very busy with homework, and studying your condition. I'm going to make sure we fix this, or I'm going to die trying. I have only gotten five hours of sleep in the past three days._

Well, that sure makes me feel sooo good- not. It's like I'm her own personal case study or something. Don't kill yourself Hermione. I shake my head in disbelief.

_I can't wait to see you again. I'll tell you guys when I find out when I'm going into Diagon Alley. More than likely next Wednesday. Please don't get yourselves into more trouble. I was really worried. Don't worry, you don't have to send Hedwig after me. Expect a letter from Professor Snape, he seems like he's really freaking out._

_Next Wednesday. I can't keep a smile from creeping onto my face._

_I mean, really bad. He was swearing like a sailor when he wrote to me. To say the least, he went unprofessional._

_Hope to see you soon._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_Professor Snape's letter feels like an interrogation._

_Dear Andrew,_

_I've been really worried, how are you? I do hope you're doing alright. You and Ms. Potter. Are you okay physically? Are you getting enough food? Those Muggles will get quite a scare that I promise you. _

_Why is he so concerned? He doesn't need to be. It annoys me a little. He is just my teacher. I bet it's because I'm famous, but then again, Harry is too. I almost crinkle up the letter right then, but stop myself. I hate that he only worries about Rachel and I, but not Harry. Why am I any different than Harry? Rachel, I get. She's in his house, but I'm not._

_I also hear that you escaped in a flying car? You do realize that's illegal, right? Please be careful. I do care, you know._

_Your Professor,_

_Severus Snape_

Why does he care about me and no other Gryffindor? It makes no sense! Wizards and witches confuse me so much. Growling, I shove my pen to a piece of paper.

_Dear,_(er) _Professor Snape,_

_I know it was illegal, and yes, the Dursleys are terrible. We get that, but we are more than fine here at the Weasleys. You can wait until next summer to go ballistic on them. I'll be looking forward to it._

_Sometimes illegal things need to be done. It's just the way it is. You've made it clear that you care. MY question is why? I'm just a Gryffindor. Don't you hate us? I mean, you didn't even mention Harry's name, so why the heck do you like me? Sure, I'm good at Potions, but I'm pretty sure Rachel and I both act twice as bad as Harry. He's the one who attempts to keep us in line. From what I understand you had a grudge against James Potter. Well, according to a few teachers, Harry may look like James, but he has the personality of his mother, Lily. As for Rachel, well, let's just say, the only reason she's in Slytherin is because she cussed the hat out. Do you even know what your co-workers call her? McGonagall told her she was like a reincarnation of James in Lily's body._

_Sorry for my rant Professor, but I had to,_

_Andrew Prince_

_I send off the letter, and climb onto the roof of the Burrow. I need to be alone because Professor Snape has my blood boiling._

How can I even begin to describe life at the Burrow? It's amazing. That's it. I can't say anything else. I've only been here a week and can say I don't ever want to leave. Hogwarts is the only thing better.

It's always noisy, and when it's not the ghoul in the attic will let you know about it by dropping pipes onto the attic floor. Ginny keeps talking to me. She hasn't really had time to talk to Rachel, but she can without blushing.

Rachel's pretty much always in Fred and George's room. Apparently, small explosions coming from their room is normal, but ever since we've gotten here, it's increased by tenfold; I have a feeling Rachel is the instigator in these antics.

The Muggle interrogations have already started. Mr. Weasley asks us questions like:

"How do you use a telly-fone?"

"What exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

"Can you describe the way eleficity works?" "(I collect plugs and battreys, you know)"

We answer him as honestly as possible and try not to laugh.

Rachel, Fred, and George weren't lying when they said they had big pranks planned this year. They took advantage of my stupidity and used me too!

"Really Rachel? What if he _dies_?" says Harry seriously. The three of us are sitting in Ron's room waiting for him to wake up. He's out cold from a fizzy yellow drink Rachel gave him. Her and the twins came up with it. They call it 'Tyson' because once you drink it you're 'Out like a light.' She made me mix it not knowing what I was doing. Just because I'm good at Potions does not mean you can take advantage of the fact I have no common sense.

Ron's been out for _fourteen_ hours, but she says they tested it on George yesterday. He is fine now. Fred and George are cooking up another one of their prank ideas right now, and it is a surprise for Rachel, so she can't know what they are doing.

I think they are taking the big prank year a little too far. At least most of the victims will be Slytherins, but still. Why Ron?

"Do you think we should go to Mrs. Weasley?" I say poking Ron in cheek. He lets out a large snore and turns over.

"No," Rachel sighs, "For the last time, he'll be fine."

"How are you so sure it didn't go wrong this time?" Harry asks.

"Because George is just fine," says Rachel. "He was just love sick over well- me, and had a bad craving for peanut butter and pickle sandwiches when he woke up."

"Is THAT why he was singing _Love Like a Hippogriff_ to you for like an hour yesterday?!" I bark, "It was the _most_ annoying thing I've heard in my life."

"I thought it was kind of cute," says Rachel snickering trying to cover up her pink face.

"Rachel, it was so off key, it sounded like a bullhorn," I say laying down on my stomach.

"That's it!" says Rachel getting up so quickly she whacks Harry's glasses off his face. She dashes from the room.

"What is she doing?" Harry asks picking up his glasses and shoving them back on his face.

"Who knows with her?" I says rolling my eyes.

She skids back into the room, with her right hand clenched. She opens her hand to reveal her dime sized bull horn I gave her on her birthday. She puts it up to Ron's ear.

"Cover your ears!" I shout to Harry.

BWAAAAHHHHHHH!

Ron kicks himself up out bed looking disheveled. His foot narrowly misses Rachel's face.

"Good morning to you too," says Rach whacking him with a pillow.

He hits her grumpily with his own, and Rachel tackles him to the floor. Ron overtakes her and gets her in a headlock, "tap out," he says.

I start chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"NEVER!" cries Rachel as she struggles against his grasp.

Mrs. Weasley hollers from downstairs that breakfast is ready.

Ron looks up like a dog with a look that says, "FOOD!" and releases Rachel immediately. She jumps on to Ron and puts him in a full nelson.

"You tap out, Ronald!"

"In your dreams," he says chuckling, but he's wrestling against her grip. He gets a far off look in his eyes, and goes, "Heyyy R.J., did anyone ever tell you you're realllyyyyyy prettyyyyyy." Rachel lets go of him and takes a few steps away from him.

I face palm myself. It must have been her sweat. She used her sweat in that nasty concoction.

"Not you tooo" says Harry irritably as we follow him from the room.

We head down the steps.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny are already sitting at the table. The moment Ginny sees Harry, her bowl of porridge goes clattering to the floor.

She seems to have a habit of knocking things over whenever Harry's around.

I cock an eyebrow at her before grinning. She just rolls her eyes, cleans up her mess with her face as red as a fire truck. Harry shrugs, pretends he didn't notice it, and takes a piece of toast Mr. Weasley offers him.

I punch him lightly in the shoulder and Rachel smiles slyly at Ginny.

Ginny giggles and disappears behind her plate, well, attempts to do so.

Meanwhile, Ron puts peanut butter on his toast and piles pickles on top of it. He keeps casting Rachel longing looks from across the table. We just try to ignore the weird looks Mrs. Weasley is giving him. _Just ignore it Mrs. Weasley. Please_, I plead in my head.

"Letters from school," says Mr. Weasley passing Harry, Rachel, Ron, and I identical yellowish envelopes addressed in green ink. "Dumbledore must know you three are here—doesn't miss a trick that man. You two've got them too," he says as Fred and George come groggily in with bed heads the size of Manhattan.

We all read their letters. Mine says to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There is also a list of the new books I need this year

SECOND-YEAR MAGE STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

The Art of Combat,( Grade 2) by Wulfrick Cornice.

The Beast Inside by Matilda Belker

Paranormal Defense by Joqulin Erik

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

Fred, peers over at my list.

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he says. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch."

Rachel snorts, "Imagine, we're going to be taught with books some stuck up prat wrote. Bet you he hasn't done any of it."

George throws his hands up in the air, "Finally, a smart one!"

Ron dances over to Rachel, and puts his arm firmly around her. "Hey, she's mine!" he says casting a jealous look at George.

George gives Rachel a weird look before mouthing, 'The Potion?'

Rachel nods going red.

"That lot won't come cheap," says Fred loudly trying to change the topic. He casts a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive ...

"Well, we'll manage," says Mrs. Weasley, but she looks worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

I shake my head, "No, Mrs. Weasley, let me pay for i—"

"Nonsense, Andrew," says Mrs. Weasley, "Don't talk rubbish. We'll manage."

"But-"

"I said we'll manage." Well, I tried, but I'm not giving up that easy.

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asks Ginny.

She nods, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and puts her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately no one saw this except me and Harry, because just then, Percy walks in. He's already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest. Rach and I snort.

"Morning, all," says Percy briskly. "Lovely day."

He sits down in the only remaining chair, but leaps up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him an owl. Laughing, I rest my head on my arms.

"Errol!" says Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under his wing. "Finally - he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her right before we left the Burrow in a hurry." He looks at Rachel, "Don't worry my love, I only have eyes for you." Fred and George quickly distract Mrs. Weasley about O.W.L.s since they will have to take them next year.

I burst out laughing and Rachel punches me as hard as she can in my arm. She hisses in pain.

He carries Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tries to stand him on it, but Errol flops straight off again so Ron lays him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he rips open Hermione's letter and reads it out loud:

"`Dear Ron, Andrew, Rachel, and Harry," He draws out the Rachel and blows her a kiss. I really hope she does not use that potion on anyone else. She doesn't look Ron in the eyes.

"`I hope everything went all right and that, Harry and Rachel are okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get them out, Ron or you Andrew, because that would get Harry and Rachel into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if they're all all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish yours off.

"'I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course'- How can she be?" says Ron in horror. "We're on vacation! - 'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?

"`Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione. "' He glances at Rachel. "That love doesn't mean anything dear. You're the most beautiful girl in the whole world.

Mrs. Weasley casts a look at Rachel.

"He must have ate bad pickles," whispers Rachel embarrassed.

"Not to worry, dear. They were getting a bit old. I'll brew a pick me up potion for him," says Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table. "Looks like we'll be off to Diagon Alley Wednesday."

I believe my stomach does a somersault and Ginny snorts at me because the results went to my face. "You're one to talk," I say laughing.

I give my broom to Rach as her, Fred, George, Ron, and Harry go up the hill to teach Rachel all about Quidditch, so I stay behind and hang out with Ginny. Ron is hanging around Rachel's neck practically singing a wizard song by some witch who has an ice curse called, 'Let it Go.' He's trying to get her to kiss him, and I have no want to watch that. She is giving him the Death Glare of Doom.

"Why in the world are you nervous to go back to Hogwarts?" she asks as we lay down in the grass looking up at the sky. "I'm not."

"Speak for yourself, Quirrel had Voldemort popping out the back of his head," I say putting my hands behind my head.

"That was true, I thought Fred and George were lying."

"Yep, they weren't. But you don't have to worry about that sort of stuff. We do. We have to protect people. Mainly, Harry, Rach, Hermione and Ron. They're like family."

"So, if you have super powers and stuff, why don't you protect the Muggles? You do it with your friends already."

"What am I supposed to do? Dress up in tights and listen to a police scanner?" I ask laughing.

"Yeah," she says.

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"You sound like Rachel."

"Come on Andrew, you even have web shooters!"

We spend our entire day arguing about this, which ends on the fact that I'm twelve—too young, and now her, Rachel, and Harry are going on about it.

I don't think I'm ever going to escape this one.

You'd think Rachel would've learned her lesson because by the time Ron came round, he already kissed her on the lips twice. She says she's going to put Pansy's sweat in it and call it Pug Pee.

Ron has apologized over fifty million times, and Rachel keeps saying it's okay. I think she's more concerned about George. She has been really quiet around him for some reason.

The week drags by slowly, until finally Mrs. Weasley wakes us up Wednesday morning and while they all eat like half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, I don't eat. For some reason, I can't. No matter how many times Mrs. Weasley badgers me about it.

"Don't worry 'bout it, he's love sick," says Ginny giggling.

"Am not," I snap angrily.

"Are too," says Rachel.

"Am NOT!"

"Keep telling yourself that," says Ginny, but then she glances toward Harry and blushes fiercely.

I pull on my jacket and my cloak as Mrs. Weasley takes a flowerpot off the mantle.

"We're running low Arthur," she sighs, "We'll have to buy some more today…Ah well, guests first. After you, Harry, dear."

She offers him the flower pot.

"Wh-what do I do?" he stammers just as plainly as I would've. What in the world do we have to do with a flower pot?

Ron goes showing Harry how to do it. Harry is engulfed in green flames just as Ron, then Rachel, and then it's my turn.

I stand in the fireplace, yell, "Diagon Alley," and am engulfed in warm flames. The room starts spinning, and I am suddenly in front of a very scared looking Rachel and Ron.

I cock my head to the side, "What's wrong?"

"Harry's not here."

"What?!" I yell starting to panic.

"Don't freak out," says Ron, "He's probably just gone one grate too far."

"What does that even mean?"

"Enough with the interrogating, I did the exact same thing. He probably just went a fireplace too far," says Rachel.

I growl.

"Oh shush Drew," says Rachel as the rest of the Weasleys come through one by one. "He'll be fine. He's in some shop."

I give her a look.

She rolls her eyes, "I can hear his thoughts remember," she says giving me a look that says, '_Duhhh.' _I'm dumb.

"What's everyone going on about?" asks Mr. Weasley.

We explain to him what's happened.

"Oh dear, well, come along he's probably only gone a bit farther, he'll be here before we know it. Lots to buy."

Mrs. Weasley takes a different view of what's happened, and she's completely freaking out.

We wave at Tom the barman as Mrs. Weasley ushers us out of the Leaky Caldron.

I only get a glance of my favorite place to shop (Apothecary) as Mrs. Weasley frantically ushers us in and out of the shops looking for Harry, and we are all getting bone tired.

We work our way up toward Gringotts, and I notice a certain bushy haired girl on the stone steps. My heart leaps, "Hermione!" I shout as I dash toward her and sweep her into a giant hug, taking in her very clean smell. She's gotten even more beautiful over the summer.

"Hey," she says giggling, "I missed you. I've been so worried!" My eyes glow in delight, and I laugh. I couldn't be happier.

"You have no idea!" I say hugging her tighter.

"Harry!" she calls. "Harry! Over here!"

"Hey!" I greet happily as we run down the white stone steps to meet him. "Dude, you're a mess," I tell him looking him over. He's completely covered in soot and his glasses are cracked. "What happened? Mrs. Weasley is freaking out! She's dragging us everywhere." I see Hagrid, "Hey."

"What happened to your glasses," she sighs taking out her wand, "Occulus Reparo." Harry's glasses are repaired in an instant. "Hello Hagrid. It's wonderful to see you all again. Are you coming into Gringotts, you two?"

"Thanks, it's great to see you Hermione. Drew, do you know where my sister and the others are?" he asks examining his newly repaired glasses before putting them back on. "When we find the Weasleys that's our first stop," he says.

I turn around, "Well, they were right behind me, but then I saw Hermione, and I uh, kind of lost track after that," I say going pink.

"Well, yeh won't have long ter wait," says Hagrid with a grin.

Harry rolls his eyes and punches me lightly in the shoulder.

"Guys, oh there you are Drew, of course you've found Hermione. Harry, I told them not to worry, but they wouldn't listen," comes Rachel's irritated voice from behind us.

Sprinting up the street crowded street led by Rachel are Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley pants, "We _hoped _you'd only gone one grate too far…"

He mops his glistening bald patch as Rachel rolls her eyes at him. "Molly's frantic—she's coming now—"

"Where did you come out?" Ron asks curiously.

"Knockturn Alley," says Hagrid grimly. I remember when he took me down there last year to get my Mage books. Shady alley, I can tell you.

"_Excellent!" _says Fred and George together.

"We've never been allowed in," says Ron enviously.

"I ruddy well think not," growls Hagrid.

"Oh come on," I say, "There's nothing really exciting down there. It's not that bad," I turn to the three of them, "William works in the weapons shop down there. It doubles as the Mage shop," I say quietly. "I'll take you down there to get this year's Mage books."

"Wicked!" they exclaim excitedly, but stop immediately when they see their mother galloping up the street, handbag swinging wildly and out of breath with Ginny clinging to her free hand.

"Oh, Harry- oh, my dear- you could have been anywhere-" says Mrs. Weasley frantically. Gasping for breath she takes out a large lint roller and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid didn't manage to beat off him.

"Well, gotta be off," says Hagrid whose hand is being wrung by Mrs. Weasley. ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!)

Gosh, you'd think he's lucky to be alive.

"See yer at Hogwarts!" says Hagrid and he strides away down the packed street.

Harry tells us that he saw Draco and his dad in the shop selling things as we climb the steps into Gringotts.

"So he's worried," says Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful, Arthur," says Mrs. Weasley. I zone out of the conversation when I see Hermione's parents. She looks an awful lot like her mother except her mom has green eyes. Her mom seems like a cheerful woman with a kind smile. She got her brown eyes from her dad who is a slim solid man with short clean cut brown hair. He seems serious, and he has a slight frown on his face. If I remember right from Hermione, her mom is named Monica and her dad's name is Wendell.

I smile and wave at them, and they return the gesture.

They look…scared to put it lightly.

"But you're Muggles," says Mr. Weasley delightedly, "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" He points excitedly at the ten pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand. I chuckle casting a glance at Hermione.

I grab her arm and pull her with us as we are being led off to our underground vaults, not wanting to go without her on the death trap of a vault cart. Rachel, Ron, and Harry snicker at me as I get nervously into the cart, but Hermione frowns at them, probably because she pities me for having mental problems, but oh well. I'm the freak who thinks about killing his uncle.

I lock onto Hermione and poor Mrs. Weasley because they are the ones beside me on the cart to keep from puking. I think we all feel like crap when the Weasleys' vault opens. There's a very small pile of Sickles inside and just one Galleon. I look down at my shoes as Mrs. Weasley feels right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag.

I'm secretly paying for as much of their stuff as I can and I'm getting Ginny a new wand. They aren't trying to pay for all those books. They say I'm Spider-Man, so I might as well do a sneaky good deed.

When we get to Harry and Rachel's vault, they try to block the contents of their vault as they sweep handfuls of coins into their leather bags.

We go to my vault and I sneak a glance toward Hermione and then to Mrs. Weasley as I put my palm on the door. She seems to understand as I allow Hermione to put some galleons in her bag for the Weasleys, and I grab enough money for my books.

Back out the marble steps, I stop Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. Hermione pulls out the coin bag. "You can't refuse because it's my payment for letting me stay for half the summer," I say, "Get whatever you need. Ah- It's payment Mrs. Weasley," I say as she tried to refuse. I shove it into her hands.

"You don't-," she starts flustered.

"I don't care," I say stubbornly. I look at Ginny, "Do NOT let her pay for anything." She smirks, but she's a little embarrassed.

I spread the rest out between the other Weasleys whose ears go red, but they stay quiet because they know I won't let them refuse it.

Harry, Rachel, Ron, Hermione, and I set off to spend our money. Harry buys us five peanut butter ice cream cones with a side of pickles. The ice cream dude looks at us weird when we burst out laughing as Harry says pickles. We eat happily as we wander up the ally window shopping.

Ron gazes longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione drags us all off to buy paper and ink next door.

We meet Fred, George, and Lee Jordan in Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop to go down to Knockturn Alley together as they are stocking up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. I try to ignore the way Rachel and George uncomfortably stare at one another. What happened when he was drugged up on Pug Pee?

"Come on guys," I say quietly, "Let's go You-Know-Where."

Their eyes light up mischievously, and we all leave the shop heading back down to Knockturn Alley. Hermione disapproves of us going down there, but she doesn't say anything. I think it's because she's just as curious as the rest of them.

"This way," I hiss leading them through the dank alley, "Keep quiet. We don't to attract attention." As always, the smell of cigarette smoke threatens to make me sick. I stop outside William's shop.

"Alright, "I say authoritatively, "Who's coming in the weapon's shop with me, and who's exploring?"

Hermione is the only one to stay with me, having no interest in whatever is down here, and that makes me happy. The rest of them want to look around the shops down here, and are glancing around amazed. I roll my eyes, "Meet me back here in twenty minutes, okay?" I ask them feeling in charge.

They nod, and Hermione and I walk happily into the familiar shop with deep red walls.

I realize Professor McGonagall is talking quietly to William behind the counter. They don't seem to notice us. "That's Dumbledore though, he's always stiff on that rule, Minerva," says William sadly. He has a bright smile on his face though. He lets out a laugh, seeming oddly happy.

"That's not something to laugh about," says McGonagall seriously.

He bursts into hysterical laughter bending over, and his eyes glow bright green. It makes me happy seeing it. I've never seen William like this.

Professor McGonagall smiles, she really smiles at William. "Better not let the kids hear about that. You have company. I better go. Good day, William, and talk to Snape about not announcing it to the entire school. Lord knows, he won't listen to me."

"Farewell Minerva," he says with a smile.

"See you at school, Professor," Hermione and I say.

"Goodbye Mr. Kross, Miss Granger," says Professor McGonagall, "It's nice to see the both of you," and with that she leaves.

I give William a Mage's greeting, and lean against the counter.

"Hello Andrew, Hermione," he says grinning so much he looks almost high, "You still refilling those cartridges, Hermione?" he asks, "Those web shooters are the best gauntlets I've ever seen. No wonder you're the best in the class."

Hermione blushes and nods as William puts the second year Mage books on the counter.

"Listen," I say to William, "I've been having these…thoughts…about my uncle Vernon," I say ashamed looking down, grabbing at my bangs out of habit.

"Let me guess," he says casually, "Gory deaths, probably you choking him to death? Stabbings? Or are you one of the noble ones?"

Hermione looked horrified. "Dude!" I exclaim.

"What?" he asks defensively, "You know it's true. You're mom was a noble kind of Mage though."

My heart sinks. My Slytherin mom didn't think about killing someone, and here I am, the first Gryffindor Mage in history, and I almost killed my uncle. I must really be bad.

"I almost killed him with a quill," I mumble guiltily.

"It's normal when those people treat you like that," he says sighing. "I'll talk to Dumbledore, and see what we can do."

"Am I evil?" I whisper painfully. Hermione puts her arm around my waist tightly in attempt to comfort me. Even with a warm arm around me I still feel like the Green Goblin in contrast to Spider-Man. I focus hard on her arm trying to calm down.

"If you let your thoughts control your actions, yes," says William simply, "but you don't. You controlled yourself, and that means you're not evil."

I nod, not really believing what he said and pay for my books still feeling like crap. What if I become something I hate? I'm supposed to be the hero. Instead of letting my uncle die because of a robber like Peter Parker, I almost gave him a quill to the jugular vein. Hermione squeezes my hand as we leave the shop, "Andrew, you are not a bad person. Look what you did for Mrs. Weasley."

"Look what I did to uncle Vernon, "I grumble annoyed.

"Almost did," she says shortly as we meet Harry, Rachel, Lee, Ron, Fred and George outside. They are all howling with laughter.

"We played ding dong ditch on Borgin!" bellows Lee Jordan.

"He came outside the shop saying he was going to Crucio us!" says George.

"It was awesome!" says Rachel.

"We learned about one of the unforgivable curses," says Harry interestedly. I wonder what they are. I'm not sure I want to know though.

"That's barbaric!" barks Hermione as we all laugh heading to Flourish and Blotts. She then goes on to lecture us about how we aren't supposed to even know about those curses until we are in sixth or seventh year, and that we shouldn't talk about them at all.

There's a huge crowd trying to get into the side doors of the book shop. I know why now, a large banner stretches across the upper windows that reads this:

GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME today from 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squeals a fangirl squeal. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!" I look at her hurt. Does she like him too? Him and Ron? Two idiots, but not me? It hurts, but then again, I have psychotic problems.

I look around the crowd to think about something else and notice the crowd is made up of mostly witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stands at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies…Don't push, there…mind the books, now…."

We all squeeze inside. There's a long line that leads clear to the back of the shop where stupid Lockhart is signing his books. Harry, Rachel, Ron, and Hermione each grab a copy of The Standard Book of Spell, Grade 2 and we sneak up the line where the rest of the Weasleys are standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good," says Mrs. Weasley. She sounds breathless and she keeps patting her hair. _Typical._ "We'll be able to see him in a minute…" I honestly have no interest in meeting the git, but that's just me. He sits at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing his stupid white teeth at us. What's so special about him anyway? They only like him because he's famous. Hermione is giving him a look of adoration and it makes me want to puke.

He's wearing _woman_ blue colored robes that match his eyes . My eyes are better. Hermione always has said she likes my eyes. That's all that matters to me right now.

A short, grumpy looking man is dancing around taking pics with a large black camera that omits puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarls at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet-"

"Big deal," says Ron rubbing his foot where the photographer stepped on it. Rachel and I snicker at him, but Hermione smacks my arm to direct my attention back to the famous prat.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard Ron, and he's staring at Harry, Rachel, and I. I try to run from the shop, but the crowd pushes me back up to him as he leaps to his feet and shouts, "It can't be the Children Who Lived?!" I crouch behind Hermione and Ron.

Lockhart dives forward and seizes the three of us, but I escape harshly from his grasp and duck behind Mrs. Granger who smirks at me. "Don't like him, do you?"

I shake my head and bury my head into her back even though people are staring at me like crazy. She shakes her head and giggles almost like a teenager. She must be the fun parent. Mr. Granger scowls at us both because of the attention we are attracting. Harry and Rachel aren't as lucky as I am though. Lockhart shakes their hands for the photographer who is clicking away madly wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.

"Nice big smile, Harry, Rachel" says the git, through his white teeth. "Together, the three of us are worth the front page," He stares over in my direction and it's all I can do, but not cause a scene. I just stare back with a fake smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says loudly, waving for us to be quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"

"When young Harry, Rachel Potter, and Andrew Prince over there behind his mother-"

"Uh, my mom's dead, idiot. That's the whole reason for us being famous," I spit as the crowd gasps. He truly is dumb. Oh crap, I'm making a scene. My face gets really hot. Do I have to do stupid things all the time? I hide part of my face with my hair, and try not to make eye contact with anyone.

"As I was saying ladies and gentlemen," he says loudly unfazed by the terrible thing he just said to me. "When they came into Flourish and Blots today, only wanting to buy my autobiography, " _Lie, "_ Which I will be happy to present to the three of them now, free of charge-" Gee thanks-_Not_. The crowd applauds again, and I'm beginning to dislike him more than I already do. "They had no idea," Lockhart continues giving Harry a shake that makes his glasses slip to the end of his nose," that they will shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. They and their schoolmates will be getting the real magical me. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have the great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" Oh, shoot me now! Dumbledore and I need to have a talk, a serious one. If I'm going to have a chat with Dumbledore, you _all_ know something's up.

The crowd cheers and claps and all three of us are presented with the entire works of the git. Harry and Rachel tip the books into Ginny's new cauldron saying that they will buy their own and Ron and Ginny can have them. I hand mine to Fred saying the same thing.

"Rachel!" we hear a voice yell, and tough old Draco Malfoy tackles her into a hug.

"Draco!" she squeals returning the hug. I wrinkle my nose. Even that's too much yuck for me. He's Draco Malfoy, but he makes Rachel happy, so I don't say anything.

George looks like he wants to explode.

Ron sees this, and says, "oh it's you," as if he's something on the sole of Ron's shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry and Rachel here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorts Draco, "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those, or did Rachel, Potter, or Prince pay for them?" Okay, Ron did deserve that one.

Ron goes fire strawberry red. He drops his books into the cauldron too, and starts toward Malfoy so I restrain his arms. We don't need to start a fight with the Malfoys especially since Rachel is a friend of theirs.

Ron glares at me trying to get at Draco. "What?" I chuckle.

"Ron!" says Mr. Weasley struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well- Weasley Senior," It's Mr. Malfoy. He stands with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering.

"Lucius," says Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," says Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids…I do hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reaches in to Ginny's cauldron and extracts a new copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

"But if you're taking hand me outs from twelve year olds, I guess not," Mr. Malfoy says. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushes darker than Ron.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of Wizard, Malfoy," he says.

"Clearly," scoffs Mr. Malfoy his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, "Associating with Muggles- " I can't control myself. Malfoy says something else insulting, but I don't hear it. I beat Mr. Weasley to Draco's dad. He insulted Hermione's family.

Ginny's books go flying and I throw myself into Lucius Malfoy, blood red eyes and all sending him into a book shelf. I punch him in the face and break his nose as dozens of heavy spellbooks come thundering down on us. "OH MY GOSH!" shrieks come from the crowd, and there are yells of, "Get him Andrew!" From Fred George and Mr. Weasley. Wait until word gets out that Mr. Malfoy got the snot beat out of him by a twelve year old.

"Break his neck!" yells Rachel egging me on.

I keep punching him, hit after hit, one in the jaw, one in the nose- I hear screams of, "Stop! Stop! You're killing him from someone, and I stop immediately, horrified, and get off him. His face is pouring, blood, but he's still conscious, so I'm good thank God. I feel really guilty. Once again, I feel like the villain. I shouldn't have done that, and Draco Malfoy is paper white. He's just standing there, still. Numb. He probably never thought his big powerful daddy would ever get his butt handed to him by someone in his own year.

Oops.

Hermione looks shocked, Ron claps me on the back, and Rachel and Harry are staring with their jaws to the floor.

I'm pretty pleased with myself, but then I feel guilty because he had no chance fighting a kid with super strength. I make eye contact with Hermione, and her disapproving stare makes me immediately look away.

As Mr. Malfoy dusts his bloody self off, still holding Ginny's book. He looks angry. Hermione drags me outside.

We sit on the curb. She's disappointed. We are silent for about five minutes. "Look, I know you were defending me, but what is wrong with you?" she scolds.

"I don't know," I say holding my head depressed. "I just lost my temper."

"You could've gotten in trouble, what if you killed him?"

"I didn't-"

"You still could have," Hermione says shortly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," I say. It feels like knives are piercing my stomach, "Something's _wrong_."

She hugs me as Mrs. Weasley comes up behind me. "What a fine public example, you just set, Andrew. I am severely disappointed in you….brawling in public with a grown man! What Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought-"

"He was pleased," says Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he was able to work Andrew Prince beating up a forty year old in the report- said it was all publicity-definitely newsworthy."

"Great, that's just what I need," I snarl, "More _publicity_."

I cling Hermione for a good minute as we say goodbye. She has the rare ability to keep me sane. She squeezes my hand giving me her number, "Call me, trust me, you need to talk to someone, and I'm here," she says, terror is in her voice, not scared of me, but what might happen _to_ me.

We floo back to the Burrow without Harry screwing up the travel by floo powder which is good. I definitely don't want to see the article about me acting up in public in the morning. How could I have been _so_ stupid?

AN: So what do you think? What's up with Rachel and George? Did something really happen with the Pug Pee, or was it something entirely different? What's going to happen with Drew brawling in public? Next chapter they're off to Hogwarts.

- Until Next time

Luke923HA


	5. Freddie Kruger's Tree

AN: Yay they're off to Hogwarts now!

Chapter 5: Freddie Kruger's Tree

This morning's headline in Witch Weekly is awful.

Attention Seeking Child Celebrity Brawls With Ministry Official

By Rita Skeeter

"Well, Lockhart's going to be ticked, he wasn't mentioned in the headline," says Ron laughing.

"Stop it please," I say weakly throwing my entire plate of food in the trash bin. There's no way I'm eating after this. I'm not even going to read the article. I may just go to sleep…. and never wake up.

"Look at it on the bright side," says Harry, "At least you won the fight."

"Yeah, Draco thought it was pretty funny," says Rachel.

"Kill me," I groan plopping down on the sofa. There's a sick feeling in my stomach that won't go away. I hate Witch Weekly.

"You act like you just got exposed," says Ron sitting down beside me, "besides half the ministry has always wanted Lucius Malfoy to get his butt handed to him." I will get exposed if this keeps up. People are probably already suspicious about me.

"Andrew," Ginny sings trying to cheer me up, "Get your mind off of Rita Skeeter; that woman's awful. Mum's always going on about her gossip column, though. Anyway, come see the sketches of your costume Rachel and I came up with. They are awesome!"

Kill me now!

The article trashing me has got me down, Rachel and Ginny have drawn nothing but pink Spider-Man costumes, and the Burrow has now become a breeding ground for Andrew Prince fan and hate mail. (Mr. Weasley didn't let me open anything until he inspected it, because some of them were cursed. People are sending me cursed mail!)

I really want to get back to Hogwarts to see Hermione, but life at the Burrow is just awesome, despite all the bad stuff happening.

I get to talk to Hermione every night, and we taught the Weasleys how to use the phone because they were screaming bloody murder into the phone. "HERMIONE, HERMIONE, ARE YOU THERE? THIS TELPHY FONE IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING," Ron shouted. You should see Mr. Weasley. He's always calling some of his co-workers, and he called his neighbors, the other day, the Lovegoods. He's like a kid in a candy shop.

We've been playing Quidditch, pigging out, and just hanging out without any dangerous dark wizards trying to off us. I want the Weasleys to just adopt us. I can't believe it's our last night here.

It's kept me from completely losing my mind. My Mage side has calmed down quite a bit.

"Hey Drew," Fred calls; a Quaffle comes zooming my way, "Catch," he says.

I do, and we all sit down to a big dinner that Mrs. Weasley has slaved over. It's so good I help myself to three helpings, but in the end I have to stop, because I'm so full I feel like I'm going to burst.

Fred, George, and Rachel end the evening with a display of those Filibuster fireworks that make me think of the Fourth of July. Everyone calls me a traitor, but I'm used to it. We have hot chocolate together, and let Rachel tell us stories about serial killers that all seem to end with, "and no one has ever found their body."

Then Ron would argue that it's easy to find bodies with magic, so those stories are unrealistic, and then they start fighting, so I get involved and keep them apart.

She proceeds to tell us that the best way to murder someone is to murder them with an ice sickle because all of the evidence would be gone. Then, you chop them up into little bits, and throw the pieces to the pigs because pigs will eat anything. Finally, sanitize the murder weapon, and drop it deep in the middle of the ocean. Tada, your murder is covered up.

She scares us bad so we all decide to camp out in the living room, well, all of us except for Percy because he's a prat. It's hard not to notice that Rachel and George fell asleep extremely close to each other.

We are all up early to go to Hogwarts, but we have so much to do that it takes a while for us to be ready to leave.

Mrs. Weasley is dashing around looking for spare socks and quills. I collide with Rachel on the steps in my boxers with a piece of toast and toothbrush in my mouth trying to get ready. We aren't the only ones who have an accident like that either. Harry bowls Ginny over five minutes later. Both of them have deep red faces and are mumbling nonsense to each other.

Mr. Weasley trips over a chicken getting Ginny's trunk to the car which he modified, unbeknownst to Mrs. Weasley, to fit all our trunks and us in the car.

When we are all in the car Mrs. Weasley glances in the back seat where Harry, Rachel, George, Fred, Percy, and I all sit comfortably, while her and Ginny are in the passenger's seat and goes, "These Muggles really do know more than we give them credit, don't they? I mean, you would never know it was this roomy from the outside," she finishes thoughtfully, and it's all I can do to not crack up. I just look up absentmindedly at the ceiling.

We barely get out of the driveway, when we have to run back because Fred left his broom. Then Ginny shrieks that she left her diary, and everything else. George even forgot his box of Filibuster fireworks.

Mr. Weasley tries to fly the car, but Mrs. Weasley won't have it.

We reach King's Cross at 10:45 am. Mr. Weasley dashes across the road to get our trunks and we hurry to the station, Bruiser nipping at my heels as I run. "Ow, Bruiser what's going on? Stop!" He barks loudly when we reach the barrier to Platform 9 and ¾. "What's your problem?" I ask him, "Bad dog." If only I could understand dog as well as I do frog.

"Percy first," says Mrs. Weasley looking nervously at the clock overhead which says we only have five minutes left before the train leaves. Percy strides forward and vanishes. Mr. Weasley goes next; Fred and George follow after him.

"I'll take Ginny, then Ron and Harry you go next; Andrew you and Rachel after them," says Mrs. Weasley. They are gone in a blink of an eye.

"Harry, you and I can go together, we've only got a minute," says Ron.

Nodding, I wheel my cart around to face the barrier behind Ron and Harry.

They walk toward the barrier gathering speed, before breaking into a run.

CRASH

What the heck is going on? Instead of going straight through the barrier, they are on the ground groaning. It's like it decided it wanted to be a regular wall for the day.

"What happened?!" asks Rachel boldly before bending down and examining Ron and her twin brother thoroughly. I crouch down looking at them concerned, grabbing Hedwig before she can roll away. Her screeching is causing a crowd to gather talking about animal cruelty.

"Does it look like we know?" Ron huffs grumpily getting up with a bit of a limp.

"Why did you run into the wall?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"I don't know," says Harry wincing in pain as he pushes his trunk off his shins. He looks over to Ron for an answer, but he stares back just as clueless as the rest of us.

Just then a guard hurries over to us, "What in the blazes do you two think you're doing?"

"Sorry," gasps Harry getting up, clutching his ribs., "L-lost control of the trolley."

"Oh no," says Rachel jumping up and down frantically, "we are going to miss the train."

My stomach lurches as the room starts spinning. What happens if we don't get to Hogwarts this year? If I spend another day with Vernon anytime soon, he's going to be pushing up daisies. Why does everything have to happen to us? No seeing Hermione for a year, and I won't be able to contact her for a year. Summer had been torture enough. I bend over thinking I might get sick.

"I don't understand…" mumbles Ron as he, Rachel and Harry go to wall and push with all their might. It's not worth the effort. If it's magically sealed, even I can't push through it. I look up at the clock. 3…2…1…

"It's gone…" Murmurs Ron. "What if mom and dad can't get back through to us? I suppose they'll apparate," What the heck does apparate mean? Seeing our stunned faces, he replies, "You know disappear in one place and appear in another? Witches and Wizards learn to do it when they come of age." Awesome! Ron sees my eyes brighten, "But you need a wand to do it." Oh, shucks. I snap my fingers in defeat.

"Do you guys have any Muggle money?" Ron asks. "We are stranded here."

I take out a ten pound note and hand it to him, all the Muggle money I have on me, because I thought all I needed w- but when I do, Harry holds his arm out to stop us. "We aren't stranded…the car," he says excitedly.

My heart leaps; I will show up to Hogwarts this year! Rachel throws herself upon him in a hug, "FINALLY, I'm rubbing off on you," she pats his unruly head of hair affectionately, "My evil brother." He rolls his eyes, and it makes me smile. My cousins. Wow.

He rolls his eyes and Ron waves us forward, "Come on let's hurry," says Ron ushering us out of the station. We run across the road to the turquoise old Ford. Ron unlocks the doors and the trunk with a few taps of his wand. I throw all three of our trunks into the trunk roughly, shut it as fast as I can, and we all hop into the car.

Ron in the driver's seat, Harry, in passenger's side, and Rach, the animals, and I are in the back. "Sure you can fly this thing, Ron?" I ask.

"'Course, check to see that no one's watching," he orders.

We stick our heads out the window. Traffic is bustling up and down the main road, but our street looks to be empty, "Clear," I say, before rolling the window back up.

Ron presses a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around us vanishes, and so do we. I look down at my hands and can see them, but I know they are now invisible. "Whoa!" I muse.

"I know right!" says Rachel bouncing up and down in her seat giddily.

"Hold on you three, " he says, and the engine once again roars to life. We are off.

"Hogwarts, here we come!" hollers Harry out the window. I think we are all just ecstatic about being able to fly a car to Hogwarts.

"Oh Fred and George are going to be sooo jealous," says Rachel with a mischievous grin on her pale face.

"That's right," says Ron hollering out the window, but jerking his head back in once he realizes he just showed his head floating about a thousand feet above the London streets. "None of my siblings have ever flown a car to Hogwarts," he says. I've never seen him happier. "We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," he says with authority, dipping us low below the clouds. "Oh no, the invisibility booster's gone faulty," he says as we flicker.

I throw myself into the front seat in a flash. My fist comes down on the button- hard. The car becomes invisible again. Sighing, I say, "That's how you do it." I flex my muscles goofily. They all roll their eyes at me.

"I think I see the train," says Harry, "Over there," he points directly below us. We watch the scarlet engine chug along, and I get an idea, well more like an excuse to see people.

Alright, see Hermione.

We dip down right above it, and just hover there invisible.

"Where's your invisibility cloak, Harry?" He turns around to look at me, patting his right jacket pocket. "I always keep it on me now."

"Well, let me use it, and I'll go get us all snacks and drinks."

"Great idea," says Ron moaning enviously, "I'm starving."

Catching the invisibility cloak as it's thrown my way, I drape it over me, and jump the window. I land with one hand on the roof of the train, and crawl along the top, peering like a creeper into the windows. I see familiar bushy haired girl with her nose in a book, glancing worriedly around every few seconds in a compartment with Ginny and a random blonde chick. Are those radishes dangling from her ears? Wait a second, is she reading a magazine upside down? That's weird.

I shrug before swinging right into their open window as quietly as possible. I sneak over to the weird blonde chick with a smirk on my invisible face, "Hey Blondie, what's up?" There's a shriek as her magazine goes flying into the air. I take off the cloak and catch the magazine just before it hits the ground.

"ANDREW BLOODY PRINCE, Where the heck have you been!" Hermione shouts. The whole train could've heard that one.

"Calm down, Hermione," says Ginny a little shocked, her back as far against the train seat as possible. I think the combination of Hermione and I gave her a mini heart attack.

I shove the compartment door shut and all but shout, "Shhhh!" I point to the window at the floating car flickering above the train. She covers her mouth to muffle her squeal.

"The nargles have got you both," says blondie with wide eyes.

"What are nargles?" I whisper to Hermione.

"No idea."

I sit down on the seat, and start to tell the story.

"So, you guys want to come up there with us?" I ask happily, "There's room for three more."

"Absolutely not," says Hermione at once. She hates flying, but I think this is more of a teacher's pet thing. She doesn't want to get in trouble.

I glance at Ginny who's been writing furiously in her diary for the past 15 minutes. "Harry's up there," I sing.

She looks up at me hesitating. After about half a minute, her nose wrinkles, "No I'll pass. I'd rather not die with Ron when Mum finds out you all stole the car again."

"Soooo!," I say turning immediately to the blonde first year girl who's name I found out to be Luna, "What about you, Blondie? Are you okay with me calling you Blondie?" she barely has time to nod, "Wanna start your first year out with a bang?"

"Don't do it, Luna," says Hermione sharply.

"C'mon," I say to her, egging her on, "Let's have some fun."

"Sure," she says with a small smile, "I've never had a friend before. Dad says it's because of the Manteras under my skin." What is that? I decide not to ask.

"….Right," I say throwing an arm around my new friend, "Let's go to the snack cart and we'll be up there in no time."

Ten minutes later after making a scene and kissing Hermione on the cheek after she gives me a scolding look worthy of McGonagall, we are back in the car tossing water bottles, pudding cups, and caldron cakes around to everyone.

"Guys this is Blondie or Luna whichever you want to call her," Luna looks up with a spoon full of wizard pudding in her mouth. Pudding lines her mouth. I say the only thing I can think of as the three of them are staring at her and her radish earrings, "She likes pudding."

She wipes the pudding off of her nodding and I introduce everyone to her.

We talk about everything, and she isn't too weird once you get to know her. Okay, she's super weird, but in a good way. She's cool.

We make regular checks on the train as each dip below the clouds each one showing us a different view as we jam out to a mix of Muggle and Wizard songs on a radio station called W.I.Z. Two Worlds Radio.

It's a party and soon London is very far behind us. Rachel starts a very furious pudding fight and soon the interior of the car and all of us are covered from head to toe in Chocolate pudding. We are laughing our heads off with Baby Got Back playing in the background. Hermione and Ginny have missed out, but being pudding caked is really uncomfortable. I wipe my arm on the seat behind me which doesn't help much.

Ron examines himself in the front seat. His hair is spiked up in a fauxhawk from the pudding and it's smeared all over his nose and clothes. "Dad's gonna kill me," he says looking at the brown seats.

"Lighten up," Rachel giggles, "Chocolate looks good on you."

Blondie pulls out her wand, "Relax, Ronald Weasley," With a wave of her wand, we are all squeaky clean- and so is the interior.

I look myself up and down with awe, "Dang." She smiles triumphantly.

"Wow, when you said you were going to be in Ravenclaw, you weren't kidding," says Ron, "Speaking of which, Hogwarts can't be that far, can it? Ready for another train check?" he asks us.

We all nod.

It's still right below us winding its way past a snowy mountain. I grin. The people on the train don't know what they are missing out on.

Ron starts to accelerate and take us upward, but when he does, the engine starts to whine.

We all exchange nervous glances. "Probably just tired….never," Ron gulps, "It's never been this far before."

"Don't panic," says Luna looking at me, "You're a Mage. You'll save us before we all die." We all look at her dumbstruck. How in the-

" I know a Mage when I see one. Dad has been dying to find one, but don't worry, I won't say anything if you don't want me to."

I stare at her mouth open wide trying to ignore the engine of the car groaning loudly, and the windshield wipers which start going back and forth fast without Ron touching the controls. He pats the dashboard muttering something.

"Don't look so surprised, you're the one with the funny accent, and every time you look down at that train, your eyes change color from blue to red like you're super happy or something."

I look at her a little irritated flashing my red eyes at her. What is with her? Geez. She looks at me innocently, unfazed by me trying to provoke fear out of her. She smiles her small smile. I return it. "you're too smart for your own-"

"There!" Harry shouts looking ahead in the darkness, "straight ahead."

I stare where Harry is staring. Blanketed in the night, is my home. Hogwarts is welcoming me home.

"Wow!" Blondie breathes. I agree. The sight of the castle really is breathtaking. I only wish Hermione was with us to see this view of Hogwarts. It's unlike any time I've ever seen it before.

The car begins to sputter, and is now losing speed. "Come on," says Ron on edge, "We're nearly there, C'mon!" he says shaking the steering wheel a little. Rachel grabs me by the shoulder. She is starting to hyperventilate and is muttering stuff under her breath.

Luna is just sitting in her seat calmly, and Harry buckles his seat belt.

I just breathe and try to block everything out with my eyes closed, but I hear steam coming from the hood anyway. Oh my Merlin; we're going to die. We're going to die. We're going to die. I shut my eyes as tightly as I possibly can as the car gives a nasty wobble.

We fly toward the lake, and we all buckle up. We are going to crash.

Hogwarts is right in front of us. Ron puts his foot down.

CLUNK.

The engine dies.

"Uh-oh," says Ron through the silence.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" We all say as the nose of the car drops into the path of the castle wall. Ron jerks the wheel as the car misses the solid castle wall by inches.

"We're all gonna die!" Yells Rachel who is red in the face gasping for air.

The car turns in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, the vegetable patches, and then out over black lawns. We are losing altitude- fast.

Ron lets go of the steering wheel completely, and pulls his wand out of his back pocket.

"STOP!STOP!STOP!" he squawks whacking his wand against the dashboard. There's a snap as his wand breaks in half. He looks at it with a terrified face.

"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" bellows Harry over all the ruckus lunging for the steering wheel, but it's too late and we're all gonna die.

CRUNCH.

It all happens very fast, but in slow motion all at the same time. Out of instinct, I dive in front of Rachel and Luna to protect them.

With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, we hit the tree and drop to the ground with a heavy jolt. All I hear is Bruiser howling. My head goes into the leather head rest and everything goes black.

"Get up, idiot!" I hear the familiar voice of my cousin Rachel, and I open my eyes as she drags me to my feet. We must've been ejected from the car. I look around for the car, and it's nowhere in sight.

"Can you believe our luck," says Ron miserably bending down to pick up Scabbers, who is hissing. Can a mouse even hiss? "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to hit the one that hits back!"

"Wait, what?" I ask looking at Harry's goose egg on his head. There's a cut on Ron's head and a bruise on his left cheek, but the girls are fine. Good. I did my job.

"The thing hit us back," says Luna looking at it in wonder, "It's a Whomping Willow!"

"That's not something to be aweing about," I say rubbing my head. There's a big gash there. "That tree sounds like it came straight out of a Nightmare on Elm Street."

"Let's just get up to the feast," says Harry.

"Luna still has to be sorted," finishes Rachel.

"I'm so sorry about this Luna, "I apologize picking up my luggage.

"You don't have to apologize. I've just had my first adventure with my first friends before I even set foot into Hogwarts. Let's go. I hope there's pudding," she says skipping into the castle as if nothing has happened. We follow her limping. Bruiser's hurt bad. I take him up into my arms sadly. He's whining.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," I tell him, "I'll get you better soon. I promise."

We watch from a window as Luna hurries into the Great Hall with Harry's cloak, and gets in line with the other first years undetected. "Thank Goodness," I mutter under my breath. Hermione sees Luna, and starts looking around for us, glaring daggers at us when she finds us through the window. I grin at her, and her expression softens a little.

She can't stay mad at me for long anymore. I wonder why. Bruiser wines, and I look down at him.

"I've gotta get this guy to the hospital wing," I tell them, and start backward coming face to face with my favorite professor. "Professor!" I plow into him, my right arm holding Bruiser, my left hand around him.

He has an awkward expression on his face between, horror, happiness, and anger at me hugging him. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron are busy insulting him because they can't find him at the staff table.

"Hi Professor," says Rachel brightly before giving him a small hug. Professor Snape gives her a genuine smile.

He takes Bruiser in his arms, mutters a few incantations, and he heals Bruiser right up. "Make sure he sleeps," he says in his monotone voice. He proceeds to walk up behind Harry and Ron. "Or maybe," he says coldly, "He's waiting to hear why you and your little gang didn't show up on the school train."

Harry and Ron turn around in terror, gulping.

"Follow me, you four. I will let your little first year friend off easy, since she needs to be sorted, no doubt another annoying dunderhead."

"Heyyy," I say a little offended, "Blondie's cool."

"Silence," he says.

I shrug. He still loves me. He leads us down to the dungeons.

He spends about thirty minutes scolding us , letting Rachel off with detention, and unfairly telling Harry and Ron that if he were their Head of House, they'd both be expelled. They did insult the crap out of him, but I don't want them to be expelled, so I just hang my head.

He complains to Dumbledore about us breaking rules, and McGonagall comes in, saying she is going to write to our families tonight, and that we both have detention. She says Luna Lovegood was sorted into Ravenclaw and Ginny got Gryffindor.

We eat sandwiches because we aren't allowed to go up to the feast. Oh well. That car ride was so worth it.

"We have to watch our step from now on though," says Harry taking a drink of his pumpkin juice.

"Um how many times have we almost got expelled already?" asks Rachel sitting down at Snape's desk, and putting her feet up, "We don't have to watch anything."

"You do have a point," I say

"Still wish we could've gone to the feast," says Harry shrugging and taking a drink of his pumpkin juice.

Ron shakes his head, "She didn't want us showing off," he says sagely, "Doesn't want people thinking it's clever, arriving in a flying car."

"I think it's clever," I say leaning over Snape's desk, both hands planted on it. I yawn, "You think we can go to bed now? I'm about to crash standing up."

"Yea," they say.

We hug Rachel goodnight, and head up to the Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asks.

Well, crap. I lay on the ground. It looks like we are going to imitate Neville tonight. "Oh get up," Says a familiar voice pulling me off the ground.

"Hermione!"

"Idiot," she says with a small smile.

"Can you tell us the password?" I say with a pout.

She sighs, "I'm not even going to lecture you. It's not like it would help. Password's wattlebird. Everyone's been talking about you guys and Luna. They're so immature. It's like you've done more than Gild-"

"It's already spread?" I ask dazed. Harry gives the password to the Fat Lady.

She nods as the portrait hole swings open to an explosion of cheers. It looks like the entire Gryffindor house is still awake in the common room.

"Brilliant!" says Lee Jordan, "Inspired! Flying a car straight into the Whomping Willow! What an entrance! People will be talking about that one for years-"

People we've never talked to are clapping and patting us on the back like we've just won the Super Bowl. Geezy cow! Fred and George push their way to the front of the crowd. "Why couldn't we have gone in the car, eh? You let that Lovegood go with you," they say with looks of utter disappointment.

We are all as red as the radishes dangling from Blondie's ears, and there's only one person who doesn't look happy: Percy.

I turn to look at the only person I want to talk to right now. I throw my arm around Hermione's shoulders tightly, "I'm sorry you don't think it's right that we came in the car, but we were really too stupid to realize we could've owled the school," I say it quietly wishing for a more private place to talk because I've missed her. "Plus, it was pretty fun," I say with a cheeky smirk, "You missed out."

She smiles at me, "Night, Andrew."

"Night Old Lady," I say happily, awkwardly turning around to wave at her as I head up to the second year boys dorm with Ron and Harry.

Ron grins guiltily at Harry, " I know we shouldn't have enjoyed that or anything, but-"

Our dorm room door flies open to reveal Neville, Dean, and Seamus.

"Unbelievable!" beams Seamus.

"Amazing!" says Neville awestruck.

We can't help it. We grin too.

AN: What did you all think?Next chapter we have classes!


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